Not a Santa Gift
by RaspBerryHats
Summary: Slightly AU- Season 6: Is it really a bundle of joy if you're scared of it? The truth comes out for all the Scoobies when innocence falls literally into their laps.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: If You're Watching.

{_A Slayer is always on the look out for any signs of demon attacks but who's looking out after her. And who will answer her prayers on a cool winter night in good ol' SunnyD, California_}

It was daybreak. Dawn should be getting up soon, but she probably wouldn't. The air inside of the crypt was cold and chilly, almost like winter. It never really became winter in Sunnydale, California; a cosmic rule that there was year-round summer anywhere south of Colorado. But it was a nagging insult to pretend that times would change and winter would finally come in white, puffy sheets. It was like seeing a light at the end of the tunnel then having a heavy door slam the light out of existence.

_The only time snow fell on the streets of Sunnydale was a long time ago_, Buffy thought gloomily as she searched for the rest of her clothes that had been scattered about in the wild heat last night. _It was Christmas of my senior year and I was still with—_

She paused and looked over at the sleeping body underneath a large Persian rug. The dark light masked his sharp face and at certain times, she wondered if it was just an act, his sleeping. She knew he watched her as she slept, and long after they both knew she woke up and feigned sleep to avoid conversation, or having to leave. Did he also feign sleep, for her sake, knowing that she had to go back to Dawn but spared her the effort of having to scold him again about the nature of their… relationship? Honestly, with each passing between this cold, dead crypt and the outside world, it was becoming easier and easier just to not care_. Spike's getting what he always wanted so why shouldn't I?_

Buffy scowled, the expression more or less directed at her friends and not the vampire "asleep", and stalked out of the crypt, her jacket nipping around her hips.

The crypt door slammed shut with enough force to wake the dead. But the dead was already awake. With a sigh, he sat up, looked at his bitten and bruised body and went go to get something to drink.

*~*~*

It was about 78 degrees in the dead of winter.

_It shouldn't be that way,_ Willow thought as she closed her window curtains and flopped down on her bed. _I could probably fix that, if I was so sleepy_. Dawn was making breakfast and for some reason, Willow didn't feel the need to go join her. Last night found her looping through one of Rack's spells and it was getting harder to tell reality apart from the mind-trips. However, the fact that she liked that fraying distinction, it was almost enough for Willow to never set foot in that place again.

Almost.

Willow tossed a handful of purple light to the light switch and the room plunged into darkness.

*~*~*

_Stupid Willow._

_Stupid Buffy._

_Stupid Xander, and Giles and Anya. I never liked Anya anyway._

The teenager flipped a pancake with a spatula and smashed it firmly into the hissing frying pan, a scowling wrinkling her lips.

_Yeah, Buffy, I'll be fine alone. Oh, wait you don't think I'm going to be alone with Willow here. Like she doesn't realize that I know she teleports out of here on a regular basis. _

Dawn fingered the dark red, heart-shaped necklace (the marked price tag was up in her room) around her throat, frowning at the lumpy-style of her pancakes. _Tara could make better ones. I wish she was here, then everything would be better._

Outside a horn honked and tossing a black and crispy "thing" from the pan into a paper towel, Dawn grabbed her backpack and raced out the door.

The green van pulled away from the front at the same time Buffy opened the back door, smelled something burning and leapt to turn off the stove.

"Dawn!" She howled and spun around so her yell would be heard throughout the house. "How could you just leave the stove on?!"

Her irritation growing, Buffy put on her Joyce-Summers-Face and belted out louder:

"DAWN! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!"

"She went to school, Buffy," Willow muttered as she entered the kitchen, her flannel pajamas slithering on the ground. The witch immediately moved towards the coffee machine, ignoring the glare from the Slayer.

"Are you just now getting up?"

"Are you just now getting in?"

"Yes," Buffy answered airily. "Because I have a job."

"Right, Slayer biz." Willow muttered as she started the machine.

"Yes, Willow, Slayer business. What's your excuse?"

Willow shrugged, getting a cup out from the cupboard. "Witch business."

"With Dawn here?"

"She was perfectly safe. I've got enchantments all over this place. So," Willow added haughtily, "if I can bring someone back from the dead, I'm pretty much-,"

The witch saw Buffy's expression shatter into one of hopelessness and Willow frowned and put down the cup. Silence was harsh and crisp, like how the air outside should have been.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," Willow said, not looking into her friend's eyes and carrying a double meaning to her words. "I didn't mean anything by it."

The Slayer was suddenly tired of playing the Mom card with everyone. Spike's pointed face flashed across her mind; she beat it back with a visible cringe and her hand rubbed her forehead.

"Yeah, I know." It didn't sound like she meant it and she really didn't, given the chance to be honest. "Look, I'm tired, the vampire- vampire_s_ did a number on me last night so I'm going to go shower. Is that alright?"

"Of course," Willow's frown was sympathetic, never empathic. _They would never know. _"You don't have to ask, you know."

Buffy paused in the dinning room and looked back, her eyes covered in a brilliant sheen and hard like glass. "Yeah, I know."

*~*~*

"I do know, and it's insulting. It's down-right insulting and I, fully human, am deeply offended!"

"Ahn, he just wants to make sure everything's alright."

"Well it is! Would he have left me the store if he thought I'd blow it up or something?"

"Probably not-,"

"So then what's with these letters about the store and Buffy and Willow, but I have to keep them locked up inside the store and not show Buffy or Willow?!"

"I don't know, Ahn, it's probably some stupid British thing."

"Well, it's stupid. I am a capable, intelligent female-organ-having human and I demand that respect!" Anya finished strongly and banged her fist on the glass counter of the Magic Shop.

Xander, her fiancé, nodded from his spot in the round table, books and charms spilled out in front of him. There had been an incident with the owners of the house Xander's team had been hired to build; apparently, they were eaten in some freak "bicycle" accident and now the big CEO's were having a field day trying to decipher out what's what. All teams had been given the day off.

"We all respect you for your female-organ-having-ness." Xander agreed and popped a doughnut-hole into his mouth, licking off the sugar from his fingertips with glee. "I know I do." He garbled.

"I know you do, honey. You like your orgasms very much."

Xander choked slightly.

Taking no notice, Anya began to hum. She bent down to get something from under the counter and when she stood again, in her hands lay a little black box. She cracked open the lid and took out the diamond engagement ring. She sighed.

Xander flipped around. He knew that sigh and it was always followed by a single question:

"When can we tell them, Xander?"

"When the time is right, sweetie." He stood and went to hold his fiancé's hands within his own. She was frowning sadly into the clear jewel. "I know you want to tell our friends about it but it's just not right, now, I mean. Buffy's back, and not from the place we thought she was, and Giles is gone and-,"

Clearly, the argument he was presenting wasn't enough to convince his unhappy Anya.

"- And a bunch of things that are really complicated and I just don't think now is the right time."

"You said that before." The ex-demon grumbled.

"Because I believe it to be the truth."

Her brown eyes raised themselves into his. "Do you repeat that you love me?"

"Every day. Every time I wake up, every time I go to sleep and especially when I hold you in my arms." He then leaned over the counter to kiss her forehead, nose, and chin.

"I don't hear you," Anya murmured quietly.

"It's more of a prayer because I know it was luck or something else that I found you."

Her eyes suddenly watery, Anya kissed Xander right on the mouth, picked up the ring, put it back in its box and stowed it away until later. Then she turned her devilish eyes back to Xander, biting softly on her lip.

"I know where Giles kept the 'out for lunch' sign."

"And I just finished adding another spring vault in Buffy's training room."

*~*~*

It was night, the air baring slight resemblance to fall. _Not winter, not even close_, Buffy grumbled.

The Slayer was taking her nightly rounds around the Sunnydale cemeteries, staking, Slaying and brutally injuring whatever she deemed worthy of her wrath. However, on a vampire/demon/Slayer ratio, it had been a slow night.

_They're probably going to wait until I'm really sleeyp then decide to leap out and try to do their dastardly deeds. _Buffy heaved herself onto a large stone crypt, a certain blonde vampire making wild motions in her head. But as of right now, the sex drive was an unusual low, the image of his… toned body not bringing the right sense of heat and fire to her head. Maybe because if they did happen to cross paths, it would require some sense of communication between the dead thing and her to get things going. And that was simply too much effort.

Buffy lay flat on top of the cold, stone crypt, looking up at the stars, the night silent and cool.

Maybe he could just appear like he usually did and take her off to _where ever_ to do _whatever_, and he wouldn't have to open his annoyingly truthful fat mouth. He was usually pretty good at arousing her at random times or places, finding her in moments she didn't want to be found.

If he climbed up here with her, that'd be fine too.

Ok, sex drive, not dead but the effort it took to find the stupid bastard was more than Buffy really wanted to deal with.

The hand around the wooden stake jumped as she heard a rustle of plant behind her. Vampire, for sure. Spike? Possibly. Vampire that was trying to kill the innocent and the next course of action was kicking it in the face, whether or not it was Spike? Yes.

Buffy rolled and heeled the thing in its face, dropping off the crypt. It howled and leapt away, when one of its buddies appeared and lunged forward. The Slayer drop-stepped, kicked away its legs and dusted it before it hit the ground.

"Hey, this wasn't so hard-,"

BAM

A third vampire wrestled her to the ground, its bloody mouth breathing hot and smelly air into Buffy's face.

"Dude," she scowled and punched him off her. "Breath. Mint."

As she swept to her feet, she suddenly realized she was surrounded. The vampires were in a half-circle and slowly advancing forward.

_Spike, if you're watching, now would be a great time for a heroic save!_

Like a bolt of neon lighting, blue ripped open the sky and winds at twenty miles-an-hour hurled grass, tombstones and anything else not firmly attached to the ground into the pitch-black-night.

One glance to all the company, and the vamps scampered off into the night, howling and screaming as though on fire. But the Slayer felt compelled to stay. Maybe a HUGE demon was about to fall out and it was her duty to make it dead, or deader. Maybe she was about to be transported by the Powers That Be to some alternate universe.

There was a world of Maybe's and none too perfect but the Slayer couldn't tear her eyes away from the open sore in the sky. It pulsed and swirled, angry and furious. Lightening clapped and Buffy squinted her eyes. _What IS that?_

Something was spinning towards her and as soon Buffy realized what it was, she threw her arms open to catch it. The object fell into the Slayer's outstretched hands and then the world was quiet. The scar was gone and the night was as it had been before. Well, not entirely.

For staring up into Buffy's wide-eyed face, was a little girl of around two. Her arms thick and chubby, with baby-fat clinging onto them for dear life. She had tiny, plump feet dangling out from an old USC t-shirt. She was gnawing on her stubby fingers with a look of pure glee on her face. She had only a couple of new teeth.

Yes, this little girl did just fall out of the sky with no apparently reason or any demonic parents following her about, but there was one thing about her that frightened Buffy to the core.

This little girl had wide green eyes, exactly like Buffy's own. Her soft brown hair hung in ringlets about her dimpled face. Why was this toddler so familiar?!

The girl grinned and burst out laughing at something that only she could see before squishing her eyes together. Buffy nearly dropped her when she opened them again.

Her eyes were a deep yellow now and from teeth-less gums, sprouted two glistening fangs.

The little girl giggled fiercely again, hiccupped and morphed back into her human face. Those green eyes stared up at the Slayer again. Then she spoke a word that Buffy was afraid she never here, and yet, now she hoped to God she'd never hear it again.

"Mamma!"

The little girl giggled again.

_A/N: Bit of a usual hum-dum Spuffy stuff, and there will be more Spuffy related action in the coming chapters, but as of now, read and review please! Any suggestions for names are greatly appreciated!_


	2. Chapter 2: Nothing Strange

Chapter 2: Nothing Strange

Spike was sulking. Spending several nights a week shagging a Slayer would put anyone in a very good mood, however tonight was different. Nothing strange in the air. Nothing poisonous in the water supply. The Niblet snuck in and out, just as she always done, playing the bait-and-switch with Buffy and the witch. All the current apocalypses had been averted and even the merry bunch of misfits hadn't asked him for help in any particular nightly Slayage. Besides the random and very violent visits from the Ice Queen herself, it had been a boring week.

But tonight, something was lacking. Gone. Not from existence but for those few dark hours, Spike wanted some "self-time" as Dru had called it. Dru. Huh. Wonder where and how she had gotten now. What would she say if she found out her own William was the Slayer's new plaything? Spike himself wasn't entirely sure of what to make of the whole arrangement.

The vampire grimaced, chagrinned. What was this world coming to? Vampires were house-broken by metal parts and silicon, not by magic and vengeful gypsies and little spunk redheads believed their power was in their control. Smart-asses dated ex-demons and fifteen-year-old girls were swirling balls of energy. Slayers-

Oh, God, she was close. And she was pissed. It was not so much of a smelling thing (though he had gotten fairly accurate at finding Buffy's scent among hundreds of others), as it was a sense. It was as though the air around her shifted forward, warning everything else to get the hell out of the way because the Protector of Mankind was here to make a house-call to the neighborhood vampire.

Spike, sighing, put down his mug of warm blood onto one of the coffins' lids, pulled an uninterested face across his features and waited.

SLAM

The door nearly flew off its hinges. _Huh, "eager tonight, Slayer?" That seems like a witty opener…_

Grinning at his own cleverness more than the Slayer's unabashed fury, Spike smiled at the advancing form. Previous nights came rushing to the surface of his memory and suddenly the thing Buffy held in her arms was pushed to the side, unimportant. His grin deepened, his line stored and ready, then he froze, for his eyes realized what she was holding.

It was a girl, little by the looks of it. She was gnawing on her stubby fingers and her eyes wore red circles, the telltale sign of crying. She sniffed a little.

"Spike, this is NOT funny…" Buffy began, glaring harshly. "I don't know what the hell you were thinking by doing this but stop it. Now."

She clutched the little girl tighter.

"What are you talking about?"

"This!" Buffy hissed and twisted the girl towards Spike. The girl, who had been staring around the crypt, finally looked forward and her soft green eyes lit up.

"Mmm!" She whined and groped towards Spike with her free hand, the one not in her mouth. "Mmmm!"

She squirmed and kicked, propelling herself forward until, with a quick jerk and a gasp from Buffy, she fell.

Spike grabbed the back of her shirt long before she neared the ground. With a shaking arm only visible to vampire senses, Spike lifted the girl, his face a mask of utter bewilderment, and stared straight into her eyes.

Buffy was looking back at him with a sense of lost longing. Her curly hair tumbling in her eyes, the toddler reached out again, this time with both hands, towards the vampire. She swung forward, (no help given from Spike) and latched onto his cotton shirt. Her tiny, box-like feet grabbed his sides and there she lay, firmly grasping his chest like a heat blanket. The girl smiled with content and rubbed her forehead against the cloth. She gave Spike a toothy grin.

"Now say it," Buffy said quietly. Spike's gaze was nowhere else than on the little girl giving him a Spider-Man-hug; his eyes were wide, either from shock or awe.

With no other prompting needed, the toddler crumpled the shirt tighter in her tiny hands and stared up into Spike's thin face.

"Daddy." Spike's stomach dropped to the floor. His gaze flashed to Buffy, who was glaring at him, then to the little girl again. "Daddy." She said again, this time more adamantly.

Like a disciple touching a leper, Spike pulled a curl behind her ear and patted her head. The toddler giggled, then her eyes changed color again. Fangs slid down from her gums and with another wild laugh, she showed them off proudly to her daddy. He grinned and morphed into his own demon face. The toddler laughed and clapped.

"Spike!" Buffy hissed and snatched the girl away from his chest. "Don't show her your game face!"

"She seemed to think it was hilarious."

"Well I don't!"

The toddler kicked and wiggled, pushing away at Buffy's hands before the Slayer realized she wanted to be put down. The little girl fell to her bottom and began to crawl away.

The unlikely pair watched her scuttle around the stone crypt floor.

"Well?" Buffy suddenly rounded on Spike. "What do you have to say for yourself!"

"She's got your eyes," the vampire said simply.

"So _not_ the point!"

"What is the point then?" Spike asked, his head leaning slightly. "We did this and we're going to face the consequences."

"You are so stupid!" Buffy yelled, suddenly pausing from her pacing to glare head-on at the vampire. "Sleeping with you didn't make her!"

"That's not what I remember Dawn saying after school one day…"

"UGH!"

The Slayer was pissed and Spike knew fully well that taunting her would eventually end in a bloody nose for him. However, the phrase, "fighting like an old married couple" had a certain ring to it that Spike thoroughly enjoyed.

"Fine." Spike said, deciding to play her game. "If the recent physical activities between us didn't make a child that bears both our striking resemblances, then what the hell is she doing here?"

"It's probably another one of your damn robots!" Buffy yelled again.

That lit a fuse within Spike.

"Why would I do that!"

"To make me feel guilty about not loving you or some stupid crap that you spend all day thinking about!"

"Well yeah, I do think about you all day!"

"So you admit it! You did make a baby-robo to make want something more with you!"

"You're delusional!"

"You're insane!"

"You're lonely!"

"You're stupid!"

CRASH

Then crying.

Buffy took off to find the toddler, Spike right behind her. She sat near an overturned lamp, teeth marks on the metal. She was crying and biting her hand again.

Buffy took her into her arms and bounced her up and down, like she had seen her mother do with Dawn.

"Shhh…" Buffy whispered. "It's ok."

"No its not."

Something cold dropped down Buffy's throat. "What?"

"She's teething. She'll eat my place before she's done."

Spike turned and was gone for a moment, then returned with a thick dishrag crumpled into a bundle. He handed the Slayer the object and she realized it was filled with ice. The toddler took it eagerly and began sucking on it. Soon her whimpering stopped and as Buffy began to sway back and forth, the girl's head dropped onto Buffy's shoulder, her little eyes falling to a close. Buffy closed her own and put her chin atop the curly mass of hair. _Oh my God, she smells like him_.

With a quick glance, Buffy saw that Spike had found a chair and he sat in it, staring at, for once, not Buffy. His pursed lips frowned in such away that meant his brain was working like a steam engine, plowing along to get from one thought to the next, as he stared at the tiny being in the Slayer's arms. They were both thinking the same thing.

_What do we do now?_

*~*~*

After a view minutes of swaying back and forth, the little girl had fallen asleep. Spike suggested to put her down on the underground bed, "it never being used, and all." Embarrassed even by that simple statement, Buffy agreed and carried the tiny girl down to the huge bed, and tucked her gently under the covers. She wondered if she should pat her or something. After a good minute of fruitless fretting, Buffy decided to hoist the covers higher to her chin and scoot the cloth closer to her mouth. The girl nestled deeper into the covers and for a flash, she recognized Dawn's features in the baby's face. _Where the hell did this little thing come from?_

Buffy climbed up the wooden ladder to the first floor of the crypt and found Spike sitting in his armchair again, staring blankly at the black television screen.

"She's still asleep, and comfortable." The willingness to overcome the growing awkward silence left a feeling in Buffy to state the obvious. "I think she'll be out for a while."

"Where did she come from, if you aren't- weren't-,"

"She fell out of the sky. I was patrolling and these vamps were surrounding me… then the sky just sort of opened up and she fell through, right into my arms."

That made Spike pull his eyes away from the television. "And you thought I had something to do with that?"

Buffy sighed and crossed her arms, then pulled herself onto the edge of one of the stone sarcophaguses. "No. But I mean she looks so much like you and I have no idea where she came from, so my first instinct was-,"

"Blame Spike?" His face softened from the look of concentration. His look was almost condescending. "I get it."

His remark made something twinge slightly inside Buffy's chest. "Well, fine, if you didn't build her and we didn't-,"

She paused and glanced at the vampire. He shrugged.

"Then… ok, here's Buffy's crazy, un-likely thought of the day: what if she came from an alternate universe?"

She half-expected him to burst out laughing, chuckling madly like Xander does when the paranormal is considered front and center. But he didn't. His eyes fell back to the blank television screen and after a while he nodded.

"Sounds the most reasonable. Do we send her back?"

"Of course!" Buffy exclaimed, the thought of having to take care of a toddler a mortifying notion. But Spike took it a different way. His eyes drifted to the ground and he recoiled back into the chair, as though shying away from pain.

"Right. We can tell Red in the morning."

Buffy frowned and stared at the vampire, trying to get inside his head, which on any other night would have been an extremely bad idea, but now… Now, Buffy couldn't figure him. Did he want the girl to stay?

"Do you love her?"

Spike was frozen for a moment before slowly shaking his head. "No, but I don't want anything bad to happen to her. I need to protect her, you know?"

Buffy did. She really did. She had all the consequential feelings of love: loyalty, adoration, an overwhelming sense of worry that something would happen, and a vicious desire to protect. They were the same feelings for Dawn, but only increased ten-fold. But she didn't know this girl to love her. And with one look to Spike's face, she knew he felt the same.

"We have to give her back," Buffy said firmly. "I can't save the world and raise a child."

Spike looked at her and his eyes read, "I could do it." Buffy shook her head.

"She came here from somewhere, meaning she's missing from some place. And sooner or later, her parents will find out she's gone missing and go looking for her."

"Buffy," Spike said slowly and frowned. "We're her parents. To give her back, we're going to have to meet them. Or us."

"Is that like the number one rule of dimensional traveling? Don't meet your alternate selves?"

"I think that's time-traveling."

"Oh."

The awkward silence returned and Buffy stared away in another direction. There were things still left unsaid.

"Spike, I-,"

He was standing in front of her, eyes like steel and poisonous. "Yeah?"

She didn't want to say this, his imagination an unsafe place. But it had to be done.

"Spike. I need… to stay the night." She choked the last words. It as though she hadn't "stayed the night" before but she had never asked. She knew she would be taken in but with the little girl, their little girl, somewhere in the middle, it wouldn't be right. But she had to stay.

"You go on ahead." Spike nodded and took a step forward. "I'll be-,"

His whole scent was overwhelming. Buffy jumped off the stone sarcophagus and stood near the ladder down to the underground. "You shouldn't. I mean, don't. You need to stay away, because you and I- and her. I can't."

"I was going to say I'll be up here if you need anything, but I'm glad you're always thinking ahead, Buffy." Spike smiled his sad smile and with his eyes twinkling, he waved her a sorry good-night.

*~*~*

She wanted to sleep. But she couldn't. The blank stone wall faced her and nestled under her breast, the girl snored softly. Buffy held the child like it was the salvation in the world, knowing fully well it wasn't hers, but she did it anyway. Buffy was ashamed, worried and afraid.

She was ashamed for the flood of emotions that were pouring from her stomach to her head, to her fingers, to her legs and back up again. She wanted nothing more than to leave this child asleep and go find Spike and take him again. Take him like a monster, like the monster she knew she was inside.

She was afraid of what her friends would say tomorrow when she came in holding the child of a Slayer and a soulless vampire. Would they hate her even more, and find out what they were doing in this reality? Would they even talk to her after that?

Buffy was afraid for the little thing in her arms. It wasn't even her own child, not her own flesh from this world, and she was already bringing anger, and hate and danger everywhere she went with the child. She could never provide well enough, no matter how much she wanted to. Buffy was the Slayer and she was destined to a life of death. At one time, that seemed ok. But what sort of world did this baby, this innocent thing, come from? And Buffy hoped, with every fiber of her being, that the other world was better.


	3. Chapter 3: Not Family

**Chapter Three: Not Family**

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Xander sat slumped in a wood chair at the Magic Box. An hour ago he had received a phone call from Buffy, urgently asking to get the gang together and meet her at the Magic Box. It was very important and from the way her voice shook, it scared her to death. Of course, Xander agreed but when he hung up the phone, his mind flashed to Spike. It was always Spike causing trouble around here. Especially last year… and then this year, thinking he's one of the Scoobies just because he roamed around town, feeling depressed and utterly abandoned while killing demons at the same time. _New flash, Dead Boy, we all felt it too._

Xander tapped his pencil on a spellbook, his brow furrowed with worry. This had Spike written all over it.

Anya stood at the counter, happily serving customers, while wishing them a good day and a hope not to be killed by something big and hairy that night. Boy, did he love that girl. He watched her for a moment, smiling and chattering about prices and money, her soft golden hair in endless spirals. She laughed and he thought his heart would explode. She would grin and his insides would melt into jelly. He loved this woman with his whole being. So why couldn't he announce their engagement?

Frowning deeply, he returned to tapping his gnawed-pencil on Willow's books and loathing Spike. The doorbell rang and as the last customer left with a big sack of Banana Slug droppings, Buffy came in through the door, carrying something with a blanket over it. A smoking shadow burst in after Buffy and, to Xander supreme dislike, it revealed its self as Spike.

"Hello, all!" He said cheerily. Xander scowled and turned away.

"Hello!" Anya waved happily. Buffy was glaring viciously at Spike.

"Where's Willow?" she asked.

"Tara just called," Anya said brightly. "They're probably putting on clothes now."

"Well this is urgent, so we'll just fill her in later."

"I think she'll see for herself, pet."

"Spike, _SHUT UP_."

"What did he do?" Xander asked, spinning to his feet. "Can I hit him?"

"No that honor is only for me, Xan, sorry," Buffy said, smiling at her friend. He grinned back and the world wasn't going to end.

"Oh, so what's under the blanket?" Anya asked and came around from the counter, her money safely tucked away. "A gold statue that you got me as a present for being such an excellent proprietor?"

"No, its—,"

The blanket giggled.

Anya looked at it sideways. "Statues don't giggle."

"That's because it's not a statue. It's—,"

"HIIIIII!" The blanket was thrown off by a little girl around two, who was grinning madly. Spike was grinning too, for some reason.

"Did Spike try and eat her?" Xander asked. "Cuz that's grounds for a good bashing."

"Xander," Buffy said firmly and he immediately sobered. She turned the girl to where the tiny back rested gently against Buffy's stomach. "_Look at her_."

Xander stared.

And then he blinked.

"Oh my God…" Anya, who had been doing the same thing, suddenly muttered a string of curses.

Little, tiny, two year old Buffy stared at him. But then there was someone else in the mix. Her hair was brown, for Zeus' sake. It was Buffy and—

The girl scrunched her face together then, opened them. Xander tumbled to the floor. The small, big green eyes had morphed into horrific yellow ones that he seen too many times before.

"Daddy." The girl giggled and reached for Spike. She growled. It sounded like a kitten.

Smiling bigger than he had ever before, Spike stuck a finger into an outstretched palm and her tiny fingers grasped around his bigger one. Effortlessly he pulled the girl from Buffy's arms and dangled her out in front of him. She cackled madly, her tiny feet swinging beneath her.

"Maybe she's part monkey, not part vampire." Spike grinned again at the smiling girl. "That'd make you all a lot happier right?"

He tossed his hand up and the toddler flew up into the air, squealing and giggling. She sailed up then down and Spike caught her. She placed one of her tiny hands on his sallow cheeks like she had done it thousands of times. One hand didn't even reach his jaw. She squished along his nose, on his hairline. She pulled at his hair, ripping it from its perfectly-held streaks. Something was racing through both of their heads and everyone else in the room would have given every penny they had to know what the vampire and his daughter were thinking. Spike stared into the little green eyes, then she smiled, her face shifted and bit down firmly on his nose.

"Ow!" Spike pulled her away with one hand, blood streaming from a fresh cut.

The toddler bit into her own hands, grinning like she was waiting for his approval. Her feet kicked anxiously. Then, Spike wrinkled his nose, shifted into his vampire mask, and growled deeply. The girl squealed, clearly delighted.

"Daddy!" She clapped excitedly.

"That's gross," Xander scowled.

"Xander!" Buffy gasped horrified and scooped the girl from Spike's arms. She was sucking her thumb again. "Shh… she'll hear you."

"Yeah, shut up, you bloody poof!" Spike snapped and took a small step between Buffy and Xander. Anya hit him on the shoulder

"No, not her!" He said quickly. "She's adorable. It's just the thought of you and Spike… reproducing… That's major 'ew' with a good portion of 'bleh'."

Spike threw a look over his shoulder and Buffy who resolutely ignored him. "Never mind how… well, yeah, worry about the how. I mean, you're dead."

"I also like crosswords and hate any thing that relates to Pauly Shore. Thanks for stating the obvious." He gave the Slayer a traditional smirk.

"Angel said he couldn't have children, so why should you?" Buffy snapped and immediately regretted it.

"There are a lot of things I can do that Angel can't." Spike spun to face her, his eyes glittering and a familiar rumble echoed in her stomach. _Damn it, Xander and Anya, just leave!_

At that moment, the Magic Shop door opened and Willow burst through, took one good look at the group in the center of the room and sighed.

"Aw, shit."

*~*~*

"Ok, now this is going to sound bad, but its really not. Well, ok it's a little… ok, a lot. Well, on a scale from one to ten—,"

"Willow!" Buffy barked. The witch glanced up and looked at the Slayer, abashed. "Get on with it."

Anya had taken the little girl down to the training room with some extra blankets and pillow in order to make her a nest for the night while "the adults sorted everything out". Tara had been asked to stay with Dawn until Willow and Buffy had come home. (It wasn't like she wanted to hide the fact that an alternate universe version of the lovechild between Spike and her had magically appeared from nowhere from her little sister but… tomorrow would have be the day) They all sat (Buffy paced and Spike stood eerily in the shadows) and tried to get information from Willow.

"What is this?" Buffy asked sharply. "Is this kid really mine?"

She left out Spike all together because it was way to ookie to think about.

"In some ways, yes and other ways no."

Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes. "Come on, Will. I need answers now."

"Ok, look, back when I was… um, free-ranged, with the magics I learned how to teleport between worlds, or more importantly, universes. But I was kind of wacked out when I did travel. However, I remembered going to this one world where it was just war-struck. Everything was dying or dead, and then I met saw, Buffy. You were carrying that little girl as you ran through streets trying to find food. I remembered being so sad. And so, I took her."

"Took her?" Buffy asked, her voice razor-sharp. Willow cringed. Spike smirked into the darkness, proud of his girl.

"Yeah, I mean I thought so at the time. I remember taking her, then nothing. I was back at Rack's."

Everyone shuddered at the thought of that place. Willow hung her head lower.

"So if you did take her, why is she just now showing up, and falling out of the sky?"

"That's the problem!" Willow said earnestly, looking around the room as though she had just said the thing that would put everyone on her side. "I don't know! Did you say anything before she appeared?"

Everyone looked at Buffy. She shrugged. "Nothing as far as Latin inscriptions go. I mean I was surrounded by vampires in the cemetery and then I thought about—,"

Her eyes glanced so fast to Spike it was near impossible to see, but the one with super vampire powers did.

"I thought about a way to get out then everything turned Twister. And she appeared."

Willow frowned. "I don't know what happened, but I'll find out for sure."

"Ok, so 'how she got here' question, in progress. 'How she got into existence'…" Buffy mumbled and looked around the circular table. "That's a whole another question."

"Maybe Spike's not a vampire in that world." Willow shrugged.

"So then I am? Because I don't ever remember having those dentals records in this world." Buffy asked sarcastically and Willow's face fell.

"Oh right."

"She didn't try and hide the fact that she was a vampire, or part vampire."

"Part vampire?" Xander asked incredulously. "That's like asking can you still eat the other half of a Twinkie after its been rotting in your lunch box for a week."

"Did you check… for an allergic reaction to sunlight?" Willow asked, shrugging her shoulders.

"Um, shocking as this might sound, I didn't want to stick my kid out in broad sunlight to test whether or not she'd catch on fire. The sound of a child dying isn't the lullaby that puts me to sleep, Will. Vampire or not."

Willow was mortified. "I didn't mean it like that! I don't want you to kill her or Slay her! Not that you would—I mean—,"

"Sorry to interrupt the awkward fest," Anya was sticking her head through the doorway between the Magic Box and the training room. Willow's blush expanded all over face. "But the punk won't go to sleep. Wants Mama. Blah blah blah."

Buffy threw her a glare as she passed the ex-demon and walked into the dark training room. She was happy to see that some maternal instincts still existed within the new-human. A large charge was draped in blankets and squashed with pillows and in the dead center, two little eyes poked through the covers.

"Mama," the girl muttered. She was tired but wanted to fall asleep with her mom near by.

"I'm here." Buffy cooed and shut the door behind her. In two short strides she was sitting on the floor next to the chair. A tiny hand slid out from the covers and grabbed Buffy's thin wrist and put in against her chest. There it was. A soft, tired, _thump thump_ of a heartbeat. She was alive. The girl grinned as though she knew the revelation she had just giving the woman next to her. She yawned and then the green eyes fluttered close. Her plump cheek fell against the couch as sleep over took the tiny body. Buffy waited a moment, her eyes shiny and glossy before moving her hand to brush away a loose bit of curls. Maybe tomorrow would involve some sort of bath and knew clothes. Maybe Dawnie knew where Mom had kept the old baby clothes.

"Joy." Spike said from the shadows. Buffy didn't even jump; she had sensed him long ago.

"What?" The Slayer said dreamily. She was tracing the button nose and dark lashes with a trembling finger.

"That's her name. Joy. Or that's what I think it should be."

That brought her back from old fantasies of a white-picket fence and fat children running about.

"What? Spike, we can't name her." Buffy turned and saw he was slowly walking towards her. "We name her and we get attached."

"Red doesn't even know where she came from. In a definite sense," he added quickly from the look on Buffy's face. "She was magic-high when she visited that world, she said it herself."

He was right, as always. It could be months, maybe years before this little girl was returned. Willow had also said the world had been rampaged with war and violence, food the number one priority. Did she really want to send back her one and only child back into such an unhappy lifestyle?

He stood with his chest pressed against her back. One hand rested softly on her hip and the other stroked away a mess of curls from the white forehead of the little girl on the chair.

"So what now?"

"Now, we name her. Joy, after Joyce. Thought that seemed appropriate, but if it was a boy, that'd be a whole different—," He began to laugh but Buffy caught him off with a steel question.

"What is this going to be? You know it can't work. You know Xander and the rest won't let you an inch around her. We don't know if she's a demon or not and if she is, you could—you might—,"

"You seriously think I would hurt her?" He asked and Buffy practically heard his heart rip in two.

"I don't know." She answered truthfully. "You're a demon. You're evil."

She had told herself that thousands of times down in his crypt and then, it didn't really matter. He was a body and that was all she needed. But now, with this little thing to protect, it mattered the world.

"I would never hurt her." Spike whispered into Buffy's ear and she shivered, starting from her toes and jumping up to her stomach. "Like I would never hurt you."

Buffy sighed, fighting the urge to let him hold her completely. She thought about the previous nights and grimaced. She reached down and touched the smooth cheek. The little girl grinned in her sleep.

"Now what?" Buffy asked again.

"We're one happy family," he answered.

She knew two-thirds of that was a bold-faced lie.

* * *

*A/N Sorry for the long delay. I'll try to post every other Monday or Friday. Depends on if my muse doesn't make me its bitch or not. Send it cookies. That puts it in a good mood.

Thanks for the reviews!


	4. Chapter 4: Found Out

Chapter 4: Found Out

The plan had been made. Tomorrow, Willow and the rest would be back here at the Magic Shop to research alternate universal traveling. The toddler, as she had been most commonly referred to, (but in private alone moments with Buffy, Spike would refer to her as Joy) would stay with Dawn; Tara was needed here at the Magic Shop for research. Giles would not be informed of this in any way, shape or form and later that night Buffy would make an appearance at Rack's, and dig up whatever she could. Spike would tail her like before and jump in if anything felt fishy.

Buffy did not like this plan for three reasons, one of them being that Dawn was staying alone with her little baby girl ( . . . er. . . the little girl). It wasn't like she didn't think her sister wouldn't be an excellent babysitter, but this was Sunnyhell, you could be a great person and still get set on fire at any time of the day. And this was a baby: innocent, sweet, and the Slayer's own (no, NOT the Slayer's own girl, or well, the Slayer for this universe) and the little thing that needed protection all the time. Maybe Dawn could carry a sword, or a have a supersonic whistle with her so if attacked, she'd blow it and the Calvary would start coming. Maybe she could just have a detonator that blew up the front lawn if anything was trying to come in. Yeah, one for the back lawn, and the sides and maybe the front porch, that just blew it all to smithereens! Maybe—

The second reason this plan made her stomach go all gurgley was simply because she would be away from the little toddler. She would spend an entire day without holding her, or touching her, or playing with her. She hadn't even gotten to feed her or change her, or bath her. All in all, it wasn't quite fair that Dawn got to play with her, to be near her. In fact this whole plan was stupid. She, the Slayer, should be protecting the world from this thing from another universe: it was her job description. So what if was her child from Psycho-Land? It was still her kid . . . in some way.

_Yeah_, said a little voice in the back of Buffy's mind, _yours and the attractive vampire sitting over there giving you mooneyes. _

Damn it.

And of course, the final reason Buffy wanted her child nowhere near this plan, was staring at her from across the room while everyone packed up and put away books. It was his kid too. Physically speaking. Could it be his kid? He's _dead_. Doesn't that mean anything anymore? Dead. Or undead, or halfway alive? No! For sure, DEAD. Like as in not a living organ in his body. Well, some things were still alive—

Buffy grimaced and went to go get Joy—er, the toddler from her chair in the back room.

Ever since this girl, this tiny being, fell out of literally nowhere, Spike had been a totally different person. She thought he had finally cracked when he admitted to her, no strings attached, that he loved her. He, William the Bloody, loved a Slayer. He, a VAMPIRE loved a vampire _SLAYER_. One, who she was proud to admit, had kicked his sorry ass across the Sunnydale county lines and back. And yet, he was still there, every night looking at her with sad, sexy (no, NOT sexy) evil-having eyes. He was evil. He did evil things. He was a vampire! That's definition of evil! So then, why (and here's the million dollar question) did he seem to melt every time he laid eyes on the toddler from nowhere?

She knew he was already in the dark training room before she went inside. He stood, as still and dark as a shadow, next to the chair. One hand gently rested on her head, one thumb gently moving back and forth.

"I think she looks like me more." He said softly, smiling. "Your mates see you first because they never expected me."

"No one expected you to be anything but a dust speck but the end of my stake." She responded, deliberately trying to hurt him. "Not here, playing house with me."

One trademark eyebrow bounced into the air. "All in all, I was pretty shocked myself."

"You're dead." Buffy said quietly, maybe more to herself than the other two. "This can't be happening."

"It happened for Angel."

"Yeah, but that was a mistake. And besides the kid turned out to be a part in this huge EVIL scheme."

"Maybe it's not evil." Spike muttered and crouched down next to the sleeping body. "Maybe it's good. Maybe she's going to be her world's savior."

"That seems a bit lofty. Don't you think?" Buffy asked as she peeled back the covers and scooped up the toddler. "How 'bout she's the best carrot eater for her age?"

The Slayer turned back towards the door, the little thing nestled next to her chest. "Yeah, then she can be the best ice-skater for her age. She'll go to college on a full ice-skating scholarship and then one day she'll be the best in the whole world! And—"

"Buffy."

His tone, though smooth and gentle, made her jump. She looked to see that he stood slumped slightly and his eyes were darting around on the ground. He was mustering up courage for something.

"Buffy, I—" he stuttered. "Can—Can—Can I hold her? You know, carry her back to the house?"

Buffy froze and looked down at the round face, then back up at Spike's pitiful one. He was pleading to her with his eyes. _He wouldn't hurt her, right?_ He did spend all summer doing good, non-evil things, and he hadn't killed anyone in a very long time.

_But he would be, if he didn't have that chip. _

_Yeah, but . . . _

Buffy let out a slow shaky breath and nodded. When she turned all the way around, he was only a foot away.

"If you hurt one hair on her head—" Buffy began as she slipped the tiny form into Spike's waiting arms.

"I'll _let_ you stake me." He finished for her and she knew suddenly, without a single doubt, he was sincere. He was shaking so much even Buffy could see with human eyes. He laughed, and glanced between Buffy and the little thing in his arms. But it was that breathless laugh, that was not from something funny but because he simply couldn't believe what was happening.

The little girl felt she was being shifted and she squirmed slightly, readjusting until she felt safe again. She yawned and one pudgy hand slid down across her round face, then reached forward to Spike's shirt. Immediately, like a touch of sunlight to a flower, the toddler shifted towards Spike, her hand tightening around the shirt into an iron vice.

If she hadn't been in the room, Buffy was fairly certain he would have simpered. _What was going on?_ Without another glance back, Spike left the training room. Buffy tried to ignore the wild thumping in her chest before she turned and follow the vampire out.

He had already whooshed past the rest of the Scoobies and the bell above the door tingled as she entered the main room. Xander gaped after him, and Willow's eyes were the size of saucer plates.

"Was that—"

"Yeah."

"With—,"

"Yep."

"Now, hold on there a minute." Xander began, red mysteriously creeping up behind his ears. "So yeah, this kid isn't yours of this universe but I don't think anyone deserves to be eaten by Spike."

"He's not going to eat her, Xander." On any other night, she would have been furious with him for making such a snide remark on her judgment abilities but tonight she was too tired. The line between right and wrong had been skewed, blurring out until grey was all that was left to be seen. "He wanted to hold her, and since he does play a significantly large role in all of this, I thought it'd be okay."

"He's evil!" Xander exclaimed. "With a capital E and that rhymes with T, that stands for Trouble! And a little kid with the Slayer! That can't be good for his oh-I-am-so-dastardly reputation! We don't even know if she's human or a demon! If she's a demon, then he can and probably will—"

"She had a heartbeat, Xan," Buffy said quietly. Xander deflated immediately. "Before she went to sleep, I felt it. Right there, in her chest. She had a heartbeat."

*~*~*

Dawn and Tara were waiting on the front porch when they all arrived home. As soon as they all morphed out of the darkness, Dawn leapt to her feet and bounded down the stairs towards Spike.

"Oh, God, I was so worried about you guys!" She cried. "I thought something happened, or someone was hurt or someone died or—Oh I don't know! I—"

And she gasped.

She saw the little thing in Spike's arms. And gasped. And immediately knew.

"You—" she began, wildly searching Spike's face for the answers. Then she looked down at the tiny being again. She whirled around to face her sister. "And you!"

"Yeah," Buffy began. "In some other dimension, you're an aunt."

"_What?!_"

"What happened?" Tara was joining them out on the lawn. "What's going on?" Her soft brown eyes traveled frantically from Buffy's indifferent face, to Spike's awe-struck eyes. Xander was toeing the ground and Anya was staring off awkwardly into space. Willow looked on the verge of tears. "Willow, what did you do?" Tara asked slowly.

"We don't know, how, or why . . ." Buffy began. Spike shifted the being in his arms to show the brunette witch. Tara's mouth dropped and her eyes grew wide.

"Oh my . . ."

Buffy felt heat creep into her cheeks. "Spike, take her upstairs to my room. Tara, we'll fill you in."

The vampire nodded and disappeared in the dark, clutching the child tighter as he did. Her mouth twisted slightly, Buffy led the way back into the house. Tara was the last one in. She closed the door softly behind her, then turned to face Buffy.

"She's you . . ." She stared, mouth-agape. "And Spike . . .what happened?"

"First of all, she's not from this dimension. Me and Spike, we never . . . never _ever_ . . ." Buffy said pointedly. Xander looked up from the floor, frowning deeply. Willow shivered. Buffy turned to face Tara, away from Xander's glare. " But when Willow was . . . strung out on the magics . . ."

Tara gave Willow a quick glare. Willow just stared lowly at the floor.

"She went universe-hopping and came across one that was in the middle of a world war. Everything was blown up and dead and then, she saw me." Buffy sighed. "Holding that little girl and she felt bad so she took her."

"You took a girl from her parents?" Tara wheeled on Willow. Then her frown creased into one of confusion. "Wait a minute. This was a month ago. Why is she here? Willow, have you been using again!"

Willow looked up, her eyes glittering wet. "No! I swear I haven't! I don't know why she's here! I don't know how she got here, or how I did it! But I'll fix it I swear!"

Buffy stared at the ground, her mouth twisted off to the side. "It's late. I think we should all just go to bed and meet at the Magic Box tomorrow around eleven. Is that alright?"

Everyone nodded glumly. Xander and Anya left, Xander giving one more unreadable glance to Buffy before closing the door behind him. Willow, tears one hair's breadth away from pouring down her face, stared at the three women at the base of the stairs before storming up to her room.

"So did she really just appear out of nowhere?" Dawn asked quietly.

"I was patrolling last night and she came out from the sky. I took her to Spike's because . . .well, obvious reasons and—"

"Wait, this happened last night? So that's where you were all day. At Spike's?"

"Not all day, Dawnie. I told the gang earlier today."

"And I'm finding out I'm an aunt to a part vampire baby _now_?" Her blue eyes grew as hard as steel. "Great. Thanks for the heads up."

She pounded up the stairs after Willow. Buffy sighed into her hands, then she felt pressure on her shoulder. Tara's hand was giving her gentle reassurance.

"Hey, it'll be okay." Tara smiled softly. "I know this is really crazy right now, but it'll turn out fine. Yeah, ok, alternate universe baby with Spike, which can mess any one up. But I think they're just tired. They'll come around tomorrow. Do you want me to stay with her?"

Buffy felt the sharp prick of tears behind her eyes. "Ah, no, actually, we need you at the magic shop, for research and stuff." She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. "You have a better clue on inter-dimensional travel than any of us."

"Except Willow." Tara answered stiffly.

"Yeah." Buffy clasped her hands together. "But Dawn can stay with . . .the girl. She'll be happy to be left behind for once, I think. I don't know anymore."

Tara nodded and gave Buffy's shoulder one more good squeeze before heading towards the door.

"Hey, Tara," Buffy began.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For everything. It means a lot."

The witch nodded and left. Buffy stretched and turned to go up stairs. Spike waited for her at the top.

"She's always been a nice bird." He said. "I like her."

"Go to bed, Spike." Buffy sighed as she passed him up the stairs. "And not here."

He pursed his lips as though to hide pain. "Fine." He said and brushed down the stairs. "See you tomorrow at eleven."

_What? He was going to the Magic Box? To do research? _

"Spike, wait!" Buffy spun on her heel but the door was already swinging closed.

She sighed again, defeated, and went to her room. The tiny thing was curled up in the middle of her bed, tucked in and shielded by blankets. She was snoring quietly. Buffy tiptoed over to the bed, as to not make the house creak and gently looped one curl around her finger.

Did Spike have brown hair, underneath all that dye? Buffy grinned into the dark at the bizarre image of Spike, Billy Idol-less.

She touched the smooth skin and then spoke, so softly her breath did not move the air.

"Sweet dreams . . .Joy."

*~*~*

_A/N: I am SOOOO sorry for the long delay. Think of Season 5, episode "Triangle", where the troll is smashing everything and everyone and always wanting grog . . . that's my life right there. I will try to be more punctual on updating but I have to write this sorry bastard first. But like my mom once said "You and punctuality, un-mixy things." _

_She never actually said that, but I wish she did. _

_Thanks for all the reviews!_


	5. Chapter 5: Time with Auntie

Chapter 5: Time with Auntie and the Portent of Doom

"This is stupid and I hate it. My eyes are burning. My fingers are cramping from turning pages and what do we have for it? NADA! Zip! Zilcho! A big fat heap of nothing! I don't know about you but I think we all need some burgers!"

Spike threw down the dictionary-thick book, titled _You've Teleported, Congrats. Now do it again. _He stared around at the moping group for approval. They seemed a bit too shocked by his outburst to agree or disagree.

"Spike, you don't eat food." Buffy said pointedly.

"Yeah, so what's with the tempting statements about juicy burgers?" Xander grumbled. Anya smiled and patted his tummy. "Besides, if you don't like it so much, you don't _have_ to be here."

Spike frowned and shifted in his seat. "Well, in theory, I could find something better to do with my time," he gave Buffy a sideways glance, "but since the lot of you are holed up here, the monsters would pick me off, with me being all chummy with the Slayer's gang and all . . ."

There was a pause, as if the comment was just waiting to be brutally torn down. Buffy had her nose in a thick book, her eyes "glazed-over". Xander frowned and cleared his throat.

"But you're not chummy! Not with the likes of us." He said and flicked a finger towards the vampire. "Ain't that right, Buffy?"

The book had the Slayer's entire attention. Only her forehead could be seen. Spike's smirk erupted like firework over his thin face. Xander's frowned deepened harshly.

"I hope Dawnie's ok." Anya said after a sharp pause. She focused on her nails. "Even more I hope your Slayer/demon spawn doesn't eat her."

At that, Buffy dropped the book and stared at the ex-demon with wide eyes.

*~*~*

Dawn Summers lay sprawled out on her family's couch, a wet cloth over her forehead and her eyes closed. It had been a long . . . two hours. This kid was DEFINITLEY the Slayer's. It was like a freakin' rocket ship.

It. Never. Stopped. Moving.

Or maybe that was the vampire part. They were spunky too, right? Dawn groaned. She didn't like to try and distinguished which was the more-half of the little kid, vampire or Slayer, because it gave her a pounding headache. So that combined with the fact that every inch of her ached, life was not good.

"A'n sorey . . ."

Dawn removed the icepack from her thrashing skull and opened one hesitant eye. The little girl, dressed in a strawberry red dress with matching sandals (found in the attic), had her hands smashed together in a tight grasp. Her soft green eyes were scuttling along the ground in guilt. "A'n sorey I play Catch Chair with Auntie . . ."

Dawn's face cringed in the memory of having a dining room chair being hurled straight at her. But at the sight of those wide, sad eyes, all that pain was immediately gone.

"Oh no!" Dawn scooped her up and put her on the couch next to her. "I'm fine! See!"

She twisted around, like dancing, and bit down on her tongue to hide the pain. "So?" Dawn asked stiffly. "What's more on the agenda?"

The resemblance to Buffy's concerned face was so striking that as she stared up at Dawn, the older girl felt as though she'd eventually get into trouble for this. Then a tiny, diapered bum stuck itself into the air as the little girl crawled off the couch, feet first and tottered towards the kitchen, again clutching her hands. Dawn heaved herself to her feet, but by the time she managed to stand up right, the little girl was back holding a thermos and a jar of peanut butter.

"Make nom, nom."

Dawn sighed happily. "That I can do!"

*~*~*

"I like jelly. Purple . . . moosh. Squish."

"Me too, kid."

Dawn was cleaning up their mess from lunch and Munch (that's what Dawn nicknamed her) was doing her very best to clean up her own fingers.

" 'Dey all sticky. I dohn' like peanuht 'nutter…" Munch frowned deeply into her fingers, finding the dilemma of trying to remove one chunk of peanut butter from one hand, only to have it get stuck on your other fingers, a very troubling task.

"That's where you wrong." Dawn grabbed a wet napkin and started to scrub away the rest of lunch. "Peanut butter is delicious."

_Wow, her fingers are so small. _Dawn thought as jelly, peanut butter and bits of some other crusty thing were cleaned away from the pudgy little fingers. Munch was watching her carefully through deep eyes.

"Tank you, Dawnie." She said quietly.

"Aw!" The older one froze and grinned wildly into the round face. "You said my name!"

"Dawnie! Dawnie!" Munch chanted happily, clapping and squealing.

"Aw!" Dawn threw her arms around the little toddler. "I love you! Why can't the rest of them be so cute, like you? Everyone is always—"

Munch squirmed and slipped out from her high chair and tottered off.

"— leaving . . ." Dawn sighed and ran after her littlest accomplice.

She found her dancing around the door. "Hungry." Munch whined.

"What? I just fed you!"

"Hungry. Tummy gurgle." Huge tears welled up in Munch's eyes.

Dawn was immediately mortified. She swooped down to her knees and took the little girl in her arms. "No, no, don't cry! I'll get it! Whatever you want, I'll make it!"

Munch let out a whine as fat tears rolled down her cheeks. She had her fingers in her mouth again, gnawing on them.

"Sweetie, what do you need?"

"D-erdie . . ." She mumbled.

"What?" Dawn coaxed. She enveloped Munch in her arms to put her mouth right near her ear.

"Daddy."

"Ow!" Dawn pulled away and put a hand to her neck. Two tiny prick marks holed her neck and blood trickled out. Munch was whining sharply now, her hands shoved deep into her mouth. The only major difference now was that she was pulling out of her vampire face. Dawn pulled her hand away from her neck to see it tinged red. Munch shivered and sat down, clearly trying to restrain herself.

"Oh, God, blood!" Dawn exclaimed. "You're a vampire, or part vampire . . . and you need blood! Where to get it…"

"Daaaadddy!" Munch kicked about.

"Daddy's busy, but don't worry!" Dawn, ignoring the weird fact that as of late Spike had been referred to as "daddy" around the Summers' household, grabbed her coat from the hanger and grabbed the battleaxe—

—She couldn't lift the battleaxe.

So she went and got a stake. It was only six o'clock but you could never be too sure with Old Sunnyhell. She scooped up the little girl and left through the door.

"Please let Spike not have installed an alarm system yet . . ." The teenager whined.

*~*~*

It was about seven-thirty when they reached Restfield cemetery and Spike's crypt. She let herself ignore the fact that she knew exactly which crypt it was and went straight for the door. And of course . . .

"Totally freakin' locked!" Dawn sighed and jiggled the handle some more. "He's got the damn Slayer on his side! Who the hell else does he have to worry about!"

Munch had fallen asleep on the way over, so that had put a temporary end to Dawn's guilt pangs, but she knew the kid would wake up again. And Dawn really didn't feel like offering up some O negative for a snack.

"Ok . . . you can do this, Dawnie." She had put Munch on the ground by the front of the crypt and currently was prepping herself for an inventive Slayer move. "Ok, just run and leap. Run and leap. Simple enough . . . Run and leap . . ."

And she went for it.

And crashed into the solid, locked, wooden door.

"Stupid Slayerness . . ." Dawn grumbled from the grass, her shoulder throbbing.

"Dawnie go boom." Munch giggled. Her aunt gave her a glare. The toddler shifted to her feet, tottered over to the door and stared at it.

"Don't hurt yourself—"

RIP

Munch came back with the door handle in one pudgy hand. "Blued now?" Her eyes were very serious, completely unaware of the enormous feat she had just done.

"Yeah," Dawn said stunned as she stood up and followed the girl into Spike's crypt. "Then later we can go tow some trucks downtown . . . without a tow truck."

Munch tottered into the vampire's crypt like she had just entered her own home, jabbering on about something in no coherent language and found Spike's wide comfort chair, immediately bounding up into the seat. Dawn began to rummage through the small white fridge.

"So, there's B positive. AB, some O negative…"

"Blud," came the response.

"Well, points for being specific, Munch." Dawn took out one bag and put it on the sarcophagus behind her and went to scrounge around for a glass. Beer, bourbon, whiskey, the occasionally empty bottle of champagne . . . but no glasses fit for a two year old. However, that didn't seem to be an issue.

For when Dawn turned around to announce the news that her dear father had no glasses whatsoever, she found Munch laying on her back with the bag clamped firmly in her hands. She was in full vamp mode and two tiny fangs had penetrated the bag. It was a little disturbing to hear such loud slurping noises coming from such a tiny little girl.

"You've definitely got your dad's yum for the blood." Dawn said and waited for the bag to be drained, and it was. To the very last drop. At last, Munch's eyes grew thick and heavy. Dawn carefully pulled the bag away from her as she curled up into a ball.

"Mama . . ." She mumbled. Her fangs retreated and her eyes turned green once again as one pink thumb found its way between her lips. "Slayer job."

"Yep, that's where she is tonight, sweetie bear." Dawn picked up the little girl. She carried her downstairs to Spike's big bed underground. It looked like it had been used recently. _Maybe this where Buffy slept last night_, Dawn thought. _With Munch. Wait. Then where did Spike sleep? _

Dawn frowned, then mentally slapped herself as a thought shot its way into her brain. No way in HELL would they sleep in the same bed, even if their alternate universe half-vampire-super-being, really adorable lovechild were there too.

_I mean, Buffy wouldn't let him in ten feet of Munch. She wouldn't . . . would she?_

_Hello, idiot, its his kid too. _

_Yeah but . . ._

_Yeah but what? Come on. You're definitely NOT going to be able to lie to yourself, which I am. You'd totally be pysched if your sister and Spike hooked up. _

_Yeah, but it's all ookie. I mean, she went down that path with Angel and look how well that turned out._

_But Spike's not a whiney pansy-ass. He can most certainly do whatever he likes._

_Well, who's stopping Angel? And from doing what, exactly?_

_. . ._

_OH! Right! The sex thing! 'Cuz he can't . . . RIGHT! Oh . . . ew. Ew! Ew Squared! Buffy and Spike . . . and the . . . EAGH! GROSS!_

Dawn was a dutiful aunt and covered up the little girl in thick blankets, trying hard not to think about what had to have happen in the alternate world to bring this little thing into existence. It was all, so . . . bleegh.

_She still is pretty cute, though. Totally a Spike and Buffy mash-up. A Spuffy mash-up. _

Dawn grinned inwardly, proud that she was so clever. She kissed a tiny hand (those were her favorite parts of baby) and went to leave to go watch recorded reruns of _Passions_. But she saw something in the corner. A sheet, draped over the wall, caught her eye. She grinned and went over to check it out.

_Is this where Spike keeps all of his—_

She yanked down the curtain.

Dawn gasped. Thousands upon thousands pictures of Buffy stared back at her. Some were of her laughing, others in a stoic pose. Others were of her drawn and little Post-It notes held one-lined poems. But they all had the same motif: Spike was freakily obsessed with Buffy. Dawn had gotten the short version the year previously: Spike admitted to Buffy that he loved her and that was it. She never guess that it was this bad. Suddenly, Dawn knew it was a bad idea coming here. The first thing in the morning, they were leaving and telling Buffy that Spike was teetering towards a _VERY_ deep cliff.

With a horrified glance back, Dawn crawled back into the bed and wrapped a protective arm around Munch. She suddenly wished she was at least half as strong as the little half-breed.

It was midnight.

*~*~*

"Why does Tara get to go out for the food?" Xander whined as he wobbly made his way down from the upper deck of the Magic Box, a stack of books precariously balanced on top of one arm as the other helped Xander shimmy down the ladder. "I've been diligently working! Read up all about the Yagowah tribe in 1302 who managed to send one of their own into the "great beyond" and the Red Hat who found a tunnel in Cincinnati that led to other worlds . . . I read about the gypsies and the hermits and something called a squindoodle—"

"Yeah but did you find anything of use?" Buffy snipped from the other side of the room. Just like when she studied for a test, the Slayer would hid herself in a small corner, not allowing anything to distract her except the pages on the book. Which, in theory was a great policy, but soon her legs cramped and she had to move, change her position. Or subconsciously her mind would wander. However, tonight (all day in fact) it had either been Xander's stomach growling or Spike and Xander's bickering or Anya's grumbles that she would loose money today because she closed the store in order to go into full research mode. The unbelievably tight tension between Tara and Willow, however . . . that was just awkward.

All of this did not put the Slayer into one of her happier moods.

"We've been at this for hours and we still have jack to show for it!" Buffy slammed her book down onto the table. "Do guys understand how freakin' important it is for us to get this girl back to her own dimension!"

"Buffy, we are trying." Willow frowned. "We're all doing our best—"

Buffy glared, a glare that was rarely ever used, especially on Willow. It said: _If you could have just controlled yourself, then this wouldn't be and issue! So back off!_

Willow shrank away.

_And I wouldn't have to deal with this— this— THING with Spike! So many levels of ew! _

_Oh, stuff it, _said the increasingly persistent voice, _a year ago you would have thought being in a ten foot radius with Bleached Guy would have been ew. Imagine what your old self would think if she knew you had been . . . bringing down houses with him!_

Buffy looked up at her exhausted friends, bags lapping dark circles beneath their eyes. They were all here to get things fixed, to help her. Technically this kid wouldn't bring the destruction of the world, so they're only reason for wanting the girl gone was because she wanted it. Buffy blushed, pulling back deeper into her chair.

_Imagine what they'd all think, if they knew what I had done. _

"Buffy!" Willow sat up from her perch on some empty shelves. She flapped her hands as though to make the badness of what she was about to say seem less frightening. "Oh God, Buffy, I—"

The Magic Shop door burst open. Tara stood, white-faced and carrying torn brown bags.

"Buffy, I know what this is and it's not good!"

"Me too!" Willow leapt to her feet, the book still in her hand. As she sped towards Buffy, the candle shimmered and the Slayer wondered if she'd ever live to be as old as Willow just looked. Tara came rushing down, tossing the bags to the floor.

"Buffy! The portal—"

"—did come from another universe. But someone on the other side created it—"

"—as a message. What the message said, I don't know but—"

"—oh, God. Buffy. I'm sorry. The portal—"

Willow paused, as though expecting, as they had been doing, for Tara to continue her sentence, but Tara's eyes had dropped to the floor, her hands clasped tightly. Buffy felt Willow shaking but she was at least a foot away. Her friend took a step back.

Buffy's heart catapulted its way into her throat, a loud banging there burning an imprint into her skin. "Tara, what is it?" She croaked.

"Buffy . . . the effects of the spell that created the portal are permanent. _Across between worlds, one side opens, another closes._ Buffy . . . the portal will never open again. She's stuck here . . . forever."


	6. Chapter 6: The Family Scene

**Chapter 6: The Family Scene**

_Joy Summers._

_Joy Summers._

_Joy Summers. Here. Forever. As my kid. _

_Oh my God._

THUMP

"OW!"

"Why does this always happen to me!" The blonde Slayer cried as she leapt after a skinny vampire.

She punch it across the face, her free hand clinging to its _Keep staring, I might do a trick_ t-shirt.

"None of this makes sense!" She grumbled and hit the vampire again. She then turned and threw it into a stone crypt. She stomped off to go pick up her stake.

The skinny vampire raised its head. "Um, I thought we were Mortal Combating it out."

Buffy shook her head and looked at the vampire as though seeing it for the first time. "What?"

"Vampire. Slayer. Mortal enemies, you know. Fight to the death comes in the package."

A certain blonde undead stupid guy flashed in her mind. Buffy scowled. All those years ago, when she had so many chances just to stake his sorry ass . . . How easy life would be now . . .

"OOF!"

The vampire lunged, knocking Buffy to the ground.

Hot breath on her neck.

Chills down her spin.

Way too close.

The bastard got her when she was distracted.

He's gotta pay.

Her knee ripped up, catching him right between the legs. The vampire froze, a screech jolting out from his lungs. Buffy shoved him off, rolled away and pulled another stake from her jacket. The vampire was rolling around, clutching his manhood, howling.

The thing didn't even stand a chance.

And she wasn't going to give him one.

He rolled near her. Her heel stamped into his stomach, making him gasp out of reaction, not necessity. And she slammed the stake home. The vampire shattered.

A cool wind blew, just like the night when her life came tumbling down. She shuddered, then sat down on the grass, her head in hands.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer was now a mother to a completely helpless two year old.

* * *

"It smells."

Knock. Knock. Thud.

"Then go change her diaper."

Knock. Knock. Thud.

"But it smells. Really bad. My gag reflex isn't that strong."

"Then do you want to build this crib?"

"No . . ."

"Then go change her."

"Ugh. Fine."

Xander shook his head, then smeared sawdust and sweat from his forehead. Anya could be so gentle and precious sometimes . . . and others, it was frightening how much demon still remained. He knelt in the center of the Summer's basement, reconstructing Buffy's wooden bed. No amount of Slayer strength could have hauled the massive piece of furniture through the doorway, down the stairs, through the kitchen and down into the basement without having to make seven or eight stops to heave-hoe the thing through the tight spaces and several unpleasant tight corners. This would all take a very long time, something with the Slayer was recently lacking, with her spiffy new job flipping patties and all. It was decided that Xander, being the carpenter in the group, would build a temporary room for Buffy in the basement and "the toddler" would stay in her mother's room.

Mother's. Mother. Mom. Mommy. One of Buffy's biggest gripes about being a Slayer was that she would never have a normal life, never have a normal family. But now she did and she couldn't spend more than two minutes in the room with the girl.

_Well since Spike is her supposed "significant other", I can see why she's slightly peeved. _Xander scowled and slammed the nail into the wood with a little more force than needed. _Spike, always here, always screwing things up._

_ Yeah and in some other universe, he's been screwing your best friend—_

THUD

Xander slipped back into his behind, clutching his thumb and shock-tears were leaking down his face. His thumb, now purple and throbbing, glared at him.

_This is what you get for letting that Billy Idol-Big Idiot get the best of you._

Shaking away the jolting pain like he had a thousand times, Xander gathered up his hammer again and began nailing in the screw. After this, it was making the bed again, adding some nice wallpaper, a little Febreeze here and there. Then fixing up the crib and rearranging Buffy's old room to the new one. And then, it was back to the way things were.

* * *

She never really understood little things. Little cars. Little houses. Little dolls. And certainly small men's personal items; anything small was not much of good use. It had to be something grand and big for anything to matter at all. Well, those small grins and smirks and kisses and touches by Xander were something very special. Anya inwardly grinned.

But this— this little, mini, acute, round thing was far beyond the bounds of comprehension. For all this ex-demon knew, it could just be a dwarf. She had seen lots of dwarves in her time and this certainly could pass for one. It was stout, with tiny fingers and hands. It was constantly flushed, as though filled to the brim with sugar and secrets. Thick brown hair clung to its cheeks, to its neck, to the air around it. By the way something fluttered in the former demon's heart, she supposed that by human standards, it— the girl— the toddler that had caused so much chaos these past days— was cute. Cute and precious. But it was amazing how badly something so insignificant and adorable could smell. Anya stared at the mini-human sitting in the space that used to be Buffy's bed.

"An'e . . ." the girl muttered from between her mouth and her hand. The other was stretched out towards Anya. She seemed to be wanting something.

"What, kid? I just changed your diaper. And believe me, I'll be getting paid for that one, I'm sure of it."

"An'e . . ." The hand grabbed forward again. Anya frowned.

"What? Hungry?"

The ex-demon went and got some baby food from the bag of groceries Tara had brought up earlier that morning. She unscrewed the lid and handed the jar to the toddler, who stared at it. Anya dropped a spoon the mini-human's lap, for good measure.

Still no reaction.

"An'e."

"God, if you could speak English, maybe I'd know what the hell you're talking about!" Anya sighed, exasperated and put a hand on her hip. The little thing just gawked some more. Anya frowned.

"An'e."

"I'm going to feed you to the next demon I see unless you tell me why you are in such a state of unhappiness."

Mini-human frowned, scrunching her nose.

"Whoa! Buffy! She does that all the time!" Anya cried. "That's really weird! How do you know about that!"

Mini- human, clearly upset by the lack of communication, stood up and grabbed the woman's skinny leg. She patted the knee at her head.

"An'e."

"I'M Ah-nee?"

The girl nodded. "An'e, up." A pudgy hand reached into the air, towards Anya.

"No, no my name is Anya."

"An'e."

"No, AnYA!"

"An'e."

"An . . . YA! Say it slower, with more vigor on the 'ya'."

"An'e."

"Noooo . . . AnYA."

Mini-human frowned. She looked away, thinking. "Up?" She tried.

"Oh, you want to be carried?"

Anya sworn she could have heard a soft exasperated sigh as she lifted the tiny creature into her arms. Now that the horrendous smell had gone away, she actually smelled— well, cute. Like baby powder and something like spring.

"Where to now, kid?"

Mini-human pulled at Anya's blonde curls. "Auntie An'e." She murmured.

Something sharp poked Anya's throat. She felt tears appear at the corners of her eyes, which was weird. This only happened when she was really sad, like when Mrs. Summers died. Not when a little thing was playing with her hair.

"Kid— what—,"

"An'e. "

_Children in peasant clothes ran around in fields, laughing and playing while the older ones helped their parents' farm and help the village run smooth. Aud watched from her window, frowning and wondering where her own man was. And she knew. She knew exactly where he was and knew that one of those girls or boys would never be hers_. _No matter how much she wanted one. No matter how much she wanted her man to enjoy her own audacity and to have one of those little children— she didn't want one with him, he who slept around with other woman with large busts and small brains. _

Anya put a stray hair around a small ear and swallowed. "Where to now, kid?"

"Dow' airs."

"Yes, lets see if Xander can still put a two-by-two together."

The thing chuckled, as if she understood.

* * *

He sighed.

Xander leaned backwards onto the stairs, satisfied with what he saw. He didn't have super speed, super strength, or super fire-throwing. He had a hammer, some nails and an indestructible measuring tape. After a good long night of debauchery with Anya, the things he did in his day job almost seemed more important than saving the world from demons. There were few times when he thought that his job as a carpenter mattered. This was one of them.

Xander flipped the hammer in his hand, grinning ear to ear.

The basement door opened and a bright light hit him in the eyes. A slim woman's form appeared in the light with a lump in her arms. A giggle echoed down the stairs.

"Oh, look, the slacker is slacking. Told you he didn't know his way around his hammer . . ."

"Anya!" Xander bolted to his feet. He watched with wide eyes as the two trotted the wooden stairs. Both were grinning as though in on a deep secret. "You can't make innuendos like that around her!"

"Oh, please." Anya muttered flippantly, pinching a little hand. "She has already made a few of her own."

Xander gaped some more. Anya rolled her eyes.

"It's all in her evil little glare. I know exactly what she's thinking."

Anya tickled the tiny tummy and the girl giggled. Xander blinked; he never realized how sexy she looked holding kids.

"Who's a good little mini-human? Who's a good little mini-human?"

"ME!" The little girl was beside herself. Anya beamed with pride. Xander was going to need to take a cold shower.

"Unh!" The toddler kicked and Anya set her down, plopping her lightly on her white little sandals. The littler one ran off towards Buffy's bed, jumping on it with ecstatic glee. Tiny hands grabbed at the comforter and suddenly the toddler disappeared. The blanket shivered, the being inside shaking with happiness, and at the end of the bed, a brunette head appeared.

"She's pretty cute for something that can smell so bad." Anya sighed. "She needs a name soon. Or she'll grow up with mistaken identity."

Xander grinned. "Yeah, she needs to know she's her own person. Because with the amount of other Slayers' kids running around, it could get confusing."

"I'm going to call her Mini." Anya said finally. "For mini-human. Because that's what she is and she needs to know that."

"She's going to grow, Anya."

"But not for a while. And so she will be _mini_ for a long time."

"Mama!" The little girl, Mini, squealed.

Xander felt a hand in his own, then the hand went around his waist. Anya's head appeared on his shoulder and she sighed. Xander wrapped his arm around his fiancé and they watched the little girl run back and forth around the makeshift room, giggling.

"Buffy's going to love this." Anya said after a while. Her voice was thick and husky. "This Summer certainly does. You did a really good job, Xander."

Anya looked up, smiling, her eyes glossy and wet. _How could he ever say no into those eyes? _He had to tell them. To tell everyone that she was his and his alone. He had to marry this girl.

"Xander. I want one."

"One of what?"

"Her."

He had to marry her and give her anything she wanted.

* * *

About three o'clock, the doorbell rang and Xander opened the door to Willow and Tara. The redhead looked as though she'd like it very much if the world opened up and swallowed her whole right there.

"Hiya, Xander," Tara started. "Is Buffy home?"

"Not yet. What's the skivvy?" Xander moved backed and let the two witches in. They all moved to the dinning room, then the girls spilled out their books onto oak table.

"No, haven't got a major break-through yet, but we're still at it."

From the opposite end of the table, Willow sighed.

"I know that sigh." Xander said, frowning. "It's the Eric-Fisher-doesn't-know-I-exist-so-why-even-bother sigh. Are we really that lost of leads?"

After a brief, almost unnoticeable, glance to Willow, Tara shrugged. "The information I found from one of my own books last night is saying the same thing in all of Willow's. These types of spells are permanent, or impossible to reverse. It's like attaching a string to a magnet and throwing it out into a field of magnets and expecting it to land on the same magnet every time. The forces of nature are kind of working against us."

"But we won't give up." Willow said firmly through a curtain of red hair. "We won't let Buffy down."

"And we didn't think you were going to, Will. We never lost faith in you."

Ignoring Tara's reproachful glance, Xander smiled at the other witch, who poked a small smile back at him.

"I'ma dragon! Rawr!" The toddler ran through the dining room, arms stretched out and a pink tongue darting out between her lips like a lizard. "Rawr! Burn rittle townies perwple!"

She zoomed around the table twice before Anya joined her, roaring louder than any fire-breather before her.

"Run little humans or we shall eat you!"

"Eat yur brainies!"

"Roar!"

"Stomp! Munch!"

The front door opened and Dawn dodged the terrible two as they came screeching around the corner.

"Did I miss something?" The teenager asked. The three in the dining room shook their heads.

* * *

_Lucky. Lucky, lucky, lucky. Damn lucky. _Luck she didn't deserve. She had good friends, friends that were helping her fix her own damn mistakes. She didn't deserve them.

Buffy scraped dried grease off from the grill with an even greaser spatula. It was dark outside and once she managed to do to the impossible, she was home free. And usually the lack of conscious thought kept this task from seeming so undoable, but tonight all she thought about was that little— _her_ little girl and how this life could possibly turn out as anything other than an utter nightmare? Now she had to pay for the college tuition for TWO— her own college dreams completely smashed to pieces— and she could barely pay next month's bills. She had to feed four mouths to feed now. She had to buy clothes for three people now. The basement was her new room—that much was clear— but there had to be closets to build, rocking chairs to build, and bookshelves to build. Then new beds to build once Joy grew. New clothes to buy. More food to eat.

More money. More money that she didn't have.

Buffy scrubbed the grease harder, fighting down the sharp prick in her throat.

_What am I going to do?_

"Summers." Her manager's crisp voice woke her from her down-spiraling stupor. Buffy wiped her face dry. "You're off. See you next Monday."

Buffy nodded, grabbed her bag of free hamburgers, fries and fatty sodas, then her coat and left her daily serving of hell.

* * *

Buffy opened her door, her bones aching for not other reason than the grease was finally eating away at her joints. No one greeted her. As she slid out of her jacket, a gaggle of noise bolted out from the living room. Buffy plastered a big smile to the corners of her mouth before adjusting the bag of hamburgers to make them slightly appetizing and heading out into the fray.

Anya held Joy in her lap as Xander held her hand, rubbing small circles into her palm. The girl was sucking on something from a bottle— whether it was blood or milk, Buffy wasn't sure if she wanted to know— and happily watched Tara, Willow, Clem and Dawn play a fierce game of checkers.

"I don't know, Dawnie." Clem said. "Maybe we're playing right into their hands."

"No, Tara really sucks at checkers." Dawn said confidently. "I beat her all the time."

"Maybe that's what I want you to think." The brunette witch waggled her eyebrows, causing the teenager to erupt into a fit of giggles.

A perfect family scene. And she was ruining it. With grease.

"Hey, Buffster, you're home! We've got some Kung Pow chicken waiting fresh from the freezer!"

Buffy hid the bag behind her back and willed herself to smile. Xander was in a particularly good mood and she didn't want to ruin that too.

"Yum!" Was all she could think to say. "Lead me to it!"

As Xander steered her into a plate of chicken and noodles and some Dr. Pepper, Anya put down Joy. Buffy's heart suddenly began to flutter as the toddler made her way towards the Slayer. Then, harder than any punch she ever received, Buffy's stomach shuddered in on itself as the girl went past her to Dawn. Oblivious to her sister's sudden shattered heart, Dawn scooped up the toddler with one arm and began to plot their next move with Clem.

"So when did the kitten-eater get here?" Buffy asked, trying to make something in her body start up again.

"I like him. He is awkward, yet fun and loveable." Anya said firmly. "I wanted him to be here."

"For what?" Dawn said eagerly. Everyone looked up to the glowing couple, Xander having arrived and now holding Anya at his side.

"We're getting married!" Anya blurted out. "Look at the size of my ring!"

She made a small black box appeared out of nowhere and everyone went "Oooh!"

"I know, right!" Anya grinned.

Joy clapped. "Yay, An'e!"

"You go, little Slayer!"

Dawn gave the girl a high-five and she returned it with an awkward slap. Everyone laughed.

Buffy, suddenly light-headed, stood. "I'm going to go . . ." everyone nodded and waved her away, " . . . get some water."

Through the living room, she shut the doors behind her, went to stairs and sat down. Buffy's stomach was water; her head was lead. Her skin was itchy and it burned away at her bones. Nausea was waving up towards her throat, making her feel like she was drowning. Why was she being tortured? Why was she being punished? She had a job, two, actually, and the thanks she got was to be alienated, to be pushed out. Any hope that suddenly— for once, by some miraculous chance— that this little thing would be the missing link in her life, was suddenly dashed out like a boot stamping on a flame.

She should have never come back. Why couldn't they see that?

There was a knock on the front door. Buffy pushed back her hair and wiped the tears from her face. What more could the world throw at her?

On her front door steps stood Spike. And he was drunk. Out of his mind, smashed, shit-faced drunk. A thrill went through her skin as she noticed he wasn't wearing his usual duster, only a black long-sleeved shirt; all angles of his muscles were visible. He could barely stand.

"Spike, what are you doing here?" Buffy hissed. She wanted him. Now. But not here. Could get caught here.

"Buffy . . ." He breathed, stumbling forward and grabbing her by the wrist. The door closed and Spike threw her against the oak. He froze, not kissing her, not moving, just breathing. His hands were sprawled out against the door, his leg kneading right up by her hip and his mouth waited just out of reach. He wanted her to make the first move.

Minutes went by. Spike waited, making Buffy's skin itch. Finally, Spike snarled low in her ear and moved away. His breath gone, Buffy fluttered awake. Her hand grabbed a fistful of his shirt and threw him back in front of her. Leather slapped metal as Buffy unloosed his belt. Then, swallowing the knot in her throat, Buffy leaped forward and closed Spike's mouth with hers. She was tired of feeling unwanted.

* * *

*A/N Sorry for such the late update. I have a condition called Procrastination's Bitch. It's a very sad disease and there's few remedies for such an ailment. Except rainy days, cookies and no school, all which should be happening quite soon. I want to write this baby but my illness keeps me from doing so. Do not feel bad for me, but my art, which must suffer because of it. *Dramatic pose*

Thanks to all who review!


	7. Chapter 7: Surprise

**Chapter 7: Surprise**

Buffy jolted awake. Why was she in a basement? And naked? And Spike was here. He was also—

With a screeching realization, Buffy remembered everything. Last night. Clem. Checkers. Xander and Anya are engaged. Joy.

JOY! In that second, she never felt more disgusted with herself. She knew it was wrong to leave Dawn with someone else, but she could defend herself. Not very well, or hold them off for long— but still, Dawn was nearly an adult— but Joy wasn't. Joy needed constant watching. And she had just left her. Left her for her friends to deal with while she let Spike take away her fear, her anger, her worry. Buffy stared at the ground, her vision quickly becoming blurry. She felt her shoulders shake as tears poured down her face. Dawn was one thing, but she— Guardian of the Hellmouth— couldn't swallow her selfish needs to care for her own kid.

Xander hadn't finished building the rest of the room and there were several pieces of wood and tools lying about aimlessly. Buffy eyed the dead thing next to her. This was all his fault. If he wasn't so—if he didn't—

This is all his fault. Buffy reached from the bed and snapped a piece of wood in half, turned and held it to Spike's chest.

* * *

He awoke to the sound of heavy breathing and something sharp poking him. He opened his eyes and found Buffy sitting over him, her face red and wet, and holding a makeshift stake to his heart.

"Gonna do it, Slayer?" he muttered.

"I have to." she sniffed. "What you do to me— how you make me feel— I can't have you around anymore."

She wasn't serious. She couldn't kill him. But nothing turned him on more than goading her to do it. God, she was beautiful.

"You need me, like I need the dark." He reached forward and touched her arm. She jerked, gasping. Her skin was fire hot. Spike swallowed. "I do things to you Angel never could—"

"Don't bring Angel into this!" She growled, tears trickling down her smooth face. His jaw set, Spike sat up quickly, grabbing Buffy by her back and pulling her closer. He could count the freckles on her face. The stake at his chest was really sticking in now: any pressure applied and he would have been dust. But he knew she wouldn't do it.

"Do you want him? Do you want to go back to him? He'll make you face things. He'll make you work for what you want. He'll make you cry. And all the while, he can't do this, or else you'll have to stake him."

Buffy gasped in pleasure as his wide hand moved around her skin. It was too much. She threw the stake to the ground and kissed Spike fiercely. She pushed him down, straddling him—

Then he flipped her, covering her, hiding her from the outside world.

"Buffy, I love you so much."

All she could do was moan.

* * *

Oh God, Spike, we can't—I need to—

Keep your hands there— right— ohmygod—

The basement door opened and light filtered down, hitting Buffy directly in the face. _They found us_.

She pushed the dead body off her, her heart going a mile an hour until—

Tara. It was Tara. She knew about this, but it didn't stop her from going "oh!" and covering her face with her hand.

"Sorry, I should have knocked."

Spike was staring at the ceiling, breathing heavily. He looked like he had just run a marathon. "Yeah. You really should have."

Buffy wanted to punch him. Then she realized the covers were on the floor next to the bed. Tara's eyes were still closed. Buffy lunged for them, threw them onto Spike and grabbed a comforter underneath the bed.

"Ok, we're decent."

From next to her, Spike chuckled. "I don't know if you'd call what we're doing— decent—"

"Shut up, Spike!"

Tara peaked out from behind her eyes. Spike was on his back, arms crossed behind his head, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. Buffy was crawling around on the floor, clearly looking for something.

"What do you need, Tara? I'm just trying to find pants."

Tara went to a stack of clothes sitting beside Buffy's disassembled closet and found a bathrobe. She helped Willow move Buffy's clothes last night while the other girl at work. She tossed it to the Slayer, who gratefully put it on.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Tara grinned. "And the little girl is just fine. Anya put her to bed early last night."

Buffy's tongue tasted like ash. "Oh, good."

"We just all assumed you went to bed after working that double shift, which is understandable. So there's no blame—or, or, guilty feelings— for hitting the hay early yourself."

Buffy heard Spike chuckle behind her.

"It's not funny!" She rounded on him. "She needs me! And I just abandoned her so I could be with you!"

"Buffy!" Tara exclaimed, looking at the door up from the basement. "Shh! They'll hear you!"

Buffy's heart leaped into her chest as she heard Willow's muffled voice call "Buffy? Are you up?"

"Buffy, we're coming down now with toast!" Xander called. Before Buffy could move, the door opened again and Willow and Xander came down the stairs. Their happy faces changed to those of shock.

Buffy felt tears rise in her throat.

"Oh my god . . ." Xander muttered.

"Buffy, how could you . . ."

"Guys, look, I'm sorry. I meant to say something— it's just—"

"Xander!" Willow cut her off. She turned to the boy and slapped him on the shoulder. "You're a horrible carpenter!"

Buffy blinked. "What?"

She turned to see what they were staring at. The bed, empty of all bodies (dead or other wise) was at a very odd angle. The front was tipped down.

"Buffy, how could you possibly sleep on this bed?" Willow exclaimed. Xander moved to examine the bed further. "No wonder she's been so cranky! Not that you've been . . . Cranky." She added quickly looking at Buffy.

"And look here!" Xander said in shock. "The wood's all cracked and splintered! Now I know I used good wood! Were you using this thing as a moon bounce?"

"Hey, there." Buffy said, swallowing red cheeks. "It's morning and I've heard the House of Buffy serves breakfast now. Let's go have some of that."

"Yeah, I'm sure Dawnie wants some pancakes." Tara said and grabbed Willow by the shoulders and started to steer her out of the basement. "Let's go." The witch said a little pointedly. Xander followed them up the stairs, still looking dazed.

"You guys go on ahead!" Buffy called. "I'm just going to—"

She turned and threw the covers back on the bed. "—get dressed."

There were stacks of jeans near the steps. She pulled them on and was in the process of putting on a bra, when he stepped out of the darkness. He was fully dressed.

"Close call." he muttered. "I've been saying for years that we put a collar with a little bell on that Xander, but nobody listens—"

"I want you gone, Spike." She found a shirt, pulled it on, and turned. "Don't come around here. I don't want to see you for the rest of the day."

He was silent, thinking. Then his blue eyes locked onto her. "What about at night?"

"No— I need to be strong—" She stared at the ground. "Just get out."

"Well technically, by California Law, half of yours is mine and until we go to court, I should get some custody—"

"This isn't a game, Spike!" Buffy snapped. "We're not married. We're not in love. I don't even like you."

He stared at her.

"The worst thing about this is that in some universe I had some part of you, growing inside me for months. And that's disgusting."

With that, she stormed out of the basement.

* * *

And was met with Dawn's concerned face at the top.

"What is it, Dawn?"

The teenager held the phone in her hands. "Buffy. You're not gonna like this—"

"But what?"

The girl handed her sister the phone. "It's Mom. She's coming home soon. Like as in tonight."

"Mom?" Buffy turned and put the phone to her ear.

"Hey, Buffy." She sounded tired. She usually was, after the countrywide tours of her gallery. She had been gone for several weeks now and as far as the Summers sisters were concerned, she wouldn't be back for another month. Buffy thought about this. She didn't even come home until two weeks after her eldest daughter's death, and left a week after that. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, just busy." She rubbed her face with her free hand. "Is everything there okay? Why are you coming home so early?"

"Our last client cancelled. And that was in New York. The big harrah was in Philadelphia so it's not so bad. The only downside is that I come home early."

"Yeah," Buffy muttered. "Big downside."

"I really have missed my girls!" Joyce Summers said, missing the disappointment in her daughter's voice. "Maybe we can go out on the town tonight! Have dinner out, you know?"

Another night spent away from Joy. Is there a record for fastest "Worst Mother" Award given?

"Sounds great, Mom."

"Great! I'll be home around four and then we can decide what to do then! How does that sound?"

"Wonderful. Just wonderful."

"Perfect! See you soon! Kiss Dawnie for me!"

"Will do, Mom. Bye."

She hung up and put her face in her hands.

"So what's the news?" Buffy looked up and saw her sister, Willow and Xander staring at her worriedly.

"She'll be here by four." She began rubbing her forehead.

"We'll take her!" Willow and Xander exclaimed. They looked at each other.

"Nobody was ever this excited about taking me." Dawn muttered under her breath.

Buffy looked up. "This place is a mess. I've got to make it nice— I need to—," she stood, and began scrubbing the dishes clean.

"Buffy," Dawn touched her shoulder. Her sister barely flinched. "Look, we've got this. Go . . . be with Munch."

"What?" Buffy stared the younger girl. "Dawn, you named her?"

"Anya says she'd have identity issues when she's older if she didn't get a name soon." The girl shrugged. "No one else was gonna do it. So I did."

"Of course, I was going to—," Buffy cut herself short. She bit her lip. "Wait, Dawn! You need to be at school!"

"Buffy!" Dawn grabbed her by the shoulders. "You need to calm down! First of all, it's Saturday. Second of all, Xander takes me every other day. Today would have been his day. Do you think he would have let me skip school just because your lovechild with Captain Peroxide fell out of the sky?"

Over her shoulder, Xander gave Buffy a small, supporting smile. "No." Buffy muttered, returning the grin.

"Exactly. So no worries. Just go see her. She really missed you last night. We all did."

Buffy blinked through wet eyes. "Yeah, okay."

"Oh wait!" Willow said, and went to her bag. "I stopped by the butcher. Dawnie told me about her babysitting adventures last night. I think you're gonna need this."

The witch tossed the Slayer a bag of blood for the baby.

"And Buffy—," Dawn said almost uncertainly. "We need to talk about Spike. There's something you should know—,"

"I'm sure I already do." Buffy said quietly.

She left then and went to see her daughter.

* * *

Buffy pushed in the door, and poked her head around the corner. There was a tiny lump sitting up on a mattress. She held both of her feet and was quietly talking to herself, in no particularly known language. Then she curled up and began rolling around like a ball.

_I'm not even that flexible_, Buffy thought as she entered the room. "Um, little girl?"

She stopped and looked over, grinning. "Mama?"

"Yeah, it's me."

The toddler let out a heavy giggle. With her little feet kick out under her, she raised two tiny hands and grabbed at the air. Seeing this motion from Dawn at the same age, Buffy went over and picked her up. Spike was right: she looked much more like him. She even grinned in the same innocent but all knowing way.

But then there were other ways she was nothing like her father. The little girl put her head down onto her mother chest and stayed there.

"Mommy."

"I'm here. I swear." She hugged the tiny thing in her arms, tighter and tighter. This was the crux of her problems but she couldn't let it go. Any release and she, Buffy, would finally shatter.

And as though she knew, the toddler hugged her in a way a mother would. In a way someone giving comfort would.

"Mama," came a muffled voice from her arms. To anyone else, Buffy would have crushed them, but this little girl wasn't half Buffy, half vampire for nothing. "Mama, let's play."

"Play?" The little girl pulled away and looked into her mother eyes, smiling.

"Play."

"We don't have toys—," but that didn't stop her. The girl jumped down and scampered back to her bed. From under the covers she grabbed a worn teddy bear. Immediately Buffy recognized it as Dawn's old toy. With a pang, she knelt down and took the bear in a shaking hand. The toddler rummaged under the blanket again and pulled out a rubber ball. It looked a little like a dog toy. The Slayer couldn't help but wonder if this was a gift from Anya. With this, the girl sat down and rolled the ball towards her mother.

They stared at each other. "Play, mommy."

She was so little. How could she know all the secrets capped under those flushed cheeks? Her brown ringlets dangled in front of heavyset eyes. Tiny hands were clasped in her lap. She was wearing Winnie the Pooh pajamas.

Buffy picked up the ball. She had hours before her own mother came. She rolled it forward. With glee, the little girl clapped her hands and grabbed the ball and threw it back.

"Mommy play!" She then started to garble in her own language, clearly saying something very important.

"Oh is that right? Is that all true?" Buffy gasped, playfully horrified. "I can't believe that!"

"Yah, mommy, true." The girl nodded seriously.

Buffy rolled the ball back and forth. Then she grabbed the bear. "And Mr. Hugglesworth thinks it's really cool too!"

"No, Mommy, Roobear." The toddler waddled over and picked up the bear. It was two thirds of her size. "This Roobear."

"You remember this bear?" Buffy asked.

"Yes. Roobear. Dawnie's." She hugged it tight.

"Okay. Roobear." Buffy kissed her forehead. "But, um, so what's your name?"

The little girl stopped fingering the bear. She pulled her mouth to the side. Then looked at her mother. "Joy." She said.

Buffy's heart cringed. "Of course it is. This is definitely Roobear."

She picked up the bear and made it dance. Joy giggled. "Oh, I'm Mr. Bear. I'm a happy, happy—," Buffy suddenly noticed stuffing seeping out of the bear's leg. "— leaking bear. What happened here?"

As she turned it over, she spotted two tiny holes, perfectly symmetrical from each other.

"What the—?"

"Daddy."

"What?"

Joy looked over. Buffy's heart skipped a beat. She was sitting, legs out in front, the ball in her mouth, chewing on one of its rubber sides. Her fangs were out. She chewed the ball like a puppy. Buffy continued to stare. "Daddy, told Joy to bite. Om nom nom."

"He was here?"

"Daddy came. To say 'nighty." She stood, wobbling, and went over to Buffy. She began searching in her jacket. "Kissed Joy on button nose." She tapped her tiny nose. "Daddy holded Joy. He lubs Mommy, Daddy says. Bluedy hurl, he says."

"Bloody hell?" Buffy felt lightheaded.

"Bluedy hurl." Joy said definitely.

Clearly unsatisfied, Joy toddled over to the door, to where Buffy dropped off the bag of blood. She squealed and picked up the packet, then tottered back to the mattress. She sat down in her mother's lap, head nestled on her stomach. Without hesitation, Joy bit into the blood packet, sucking on it like a bottle.

"Daddy be back wif more blued." She said, as though it was an afterthought. "Yummy."

"Course, he will." Buffy began to stroke the curls. "To protect the ones he loves."

Buffy meant to lay down but a tiny but strong hand stopped her. "No, mommy. No sleep. Joy hungry. But then play. No sleep!"

"Okay, buggy."

Buffy started. She never called Dawn that. She was never particularly good with nicknames. But as she looked down at the little one happily slurping away, "buggy" was perfect.

* * *

Willow blasted open Rack's door with more power than she was feeling these days. The slimy man himself lounged in a pile of blankets. A girl with a blurred face revolved on the ceiling.

"Ah, Strawberry, I was beginning to worry." He drawled.

"You should, Rack." Willow scowled. "You have to fix this."

Rack slid his feet— well, glided would be a better way to put it. He walked on air. "Do you know how good you smell when you're angry?" His finger neared her face and a jolt of lightning singed her skin. He smiled with pleasure.

"If you want more of it, you're gonna do what I say." Willow said with more vigor than she felt. Was it the magic talking or the second skin she had recently grown?

"Yes, ma'am." Rack muttered. He began gently zapping the ends of her hair.

"A few months ago you sent me across universes."

"I always do—,"

"No, one in specific. It was one like this one, except it was war-torn. Battles and death everywhere."

"And your Slayer's friend little child . . ." Rack chuckled and began pacing the room. He threw a handful of green light up to the girl on the roof. She moaned. "This'll be interesting."

"Yeah. And she needs to go back. But because I don't remember half of what happens here, I thought you could point me in the direction of which universe exactly it was."

"Aw, and I thought our time together was more meaningful." Rack smirked. Willow let her hands give a good threatening crackle. "But, fine, I'll help you. What do I get out of it?"

"You can drain me. Longer and how much you want." Willow couldn't help but feel a tickle of anticipation run up her spine.

"Tempting." Rack said. He twirled his fingers and suddenly the girl's veins were visible, purple and pulsating. "But no. You're so tainted."

"Tainted. What's that suppose to mean?"

"Someone else has tasted strawberries. A fellow witch, but more than that, isn't she? She's the one you're hiding from. How did you manage to escape during the day? This must be very important. She's why— Why you come here dripping with guilt . . . why you come tasting sour . . ."

"What I'm doing in my life outside of here, is none of your business." Willow said, but the threatening air was gone. How did he know? "I'm not hiding. She just doesn't understand. Tara— I'll tell her, some day."

Rack chuckled again. That was enough. The second skin took over. Willow hurled a ball of red energy at Rack who consequently slammed into the back wall. The girl on the ceiling fell, with a gasp, into the pile of blankets.

"I am not playing here." Willow said, her voice low and deep. "You do what I want, and I'll let you live."

Rack was still. Then his eyes flung open and as though pulled by invisible strings, he flew to his feet. "Not yet. You don't have the juice. But one day you will. I just hope you're less . . . hostile when that day comes."

"I'm feeling pretty juiced right now." Willow scowled. Her hands crackled again. The magics helped hide the guilt at stealing some of Tara's old books. "Do you really wanna test me?"

"Some other day," Rack shook his head, bored. "But as you are one of my favorite flavors, I'll help you out. But to be perfectly honest, this might take awhile."

He flew to her and with one finger, he touched her forehead. Willow gasped and collapsed.

* * *

A/N hey all! Just finished this and guess what! I'm not sleeping tonight until I get a HUGE chunk of this done. So, maybe more postings. I just wanna finish this bitch.

Also, surprise Joyce isn't dead! And yes, she's an asshat But so is everyone else in season six so I thought what the hell. I warned you, this is AU. Yes Willow has been using and not letting Tara know. Hope the beginning was a good 'bout of hot Spuffy. More coming : )

And if yes, Joyce will meet little Joy. So imagine that moment you brought home someone your parents didn't approve of, and you knew it, and you had a lovechild of you two in your arms. Ok, so maybe not everyone had a love child with them, but still. Grandma Summers ain't gonna be happy. There might be some weapons thrown about. We'll see.

Thanks to all who review!


	8. Chapter 8: Visits

**Chapter 8: Visits**

* * *

An hour later, Buffy came down the stairs, Joy attached to her hip and dressed in little white shorts and a pink flowered shirt. Her hair was nicely brushed and for once, her breath didn't have that metallic smell to it. It wasn't until they pass the hallway mirror did Buffy realize she was wearing a pink shirt as well.

_Matching outfits for mother and daughter_.

"Hi, 'Ander and An'e." She waved as they entered the kitchen. She kicked out from her mother and tottered over to Xander's leg. She presented him with a teddy bear. "This Roobear. Say hi to 'Ander, Roo."

She wiggled one of the bear's arms. "Nice to meet you." Xander took the bear's hand.

"Hi, An'e." The bear waved at her too.

"Hi, inanimate object." Anya smiled.

"She's had breakfast." Buffy said, pulling a pancake apart. "Now what to do with her while I clean the house . . ."

"Willow's gone to her and Tara's house to get more poop on the interdimension hopscotch." Xander said. "Dawn went with Tara to get supplies for spells and . . . her . . ."

Joy found a fly buzzing around. She dropped the bear and began following it around the room, clapping at it with tiny hands.

"I don't know why they bother." Anya said, licking off some extra syrup from a plate. "They're not going to find a book that says, 'Oh, yeah, all those other thicker ones were just lying. I'm the real book and I say she can be sent back. Here's how.' "

Xander just shook his head. "Ahn, this is so not the time—,"

"No, Xander, she's right." Buffy said, staring off. "They need to be researching how I can grow a money tree legally."

"Have you thought about what to call her yet?" Anya asked as they watched the toddler pounce around the room. The fly just missed her grasp and she let out a kitten growl again.

"Dawn wants to call her Munch."

Frustrated, Joy leapt, fangs out, trying to bite the fly out of the air.

"Can't imagine why." Buffy muttered.

"I like Mini, because, she's a mini-human, you know. Tiny." Anya said.

"Anya, _you_ named her too?" Buffy stared at the ex-demon incredulously.

"But it doesn't have to be that." Xander quickly interjected. "It's just a suggestion."

"I thought of Joy." Buffy said. "You know, for Mom."

"It's a great name." Xander said quickly.

"What does Spike think?" Anya asked. Joy was prowling towards the fly. It had landed finally and it was now or never for the little huntress. "You know, as it's his kid too."

"Anya!" Xander exclaimed, heat creeping up his ears again. "We don't care what he thinks!"

"Well we should!" Anya frowned. "I would want to include you in the naming of our offspring."

That suddenly silenced Xander immediately. Anya frowned again. "So, have you told him?"

Buffy was silent, considering what to say. "Actually," she began. "He does like it."

"See! Good family bonding!" Anya said happily.

"No, not family!" Xander scowled before Buffy had a chance to say anything. "He's evil! There is no family!"

Buffy swallowed hot coals. "Right. None of that."

"Mommy," said a quiet voice. Joy waddled over to Buffy, looking up with bright eyes. A bit of fly was hanging out of her mouth. "Where Daddy?"

Xander snorted his disgust. Buffy ignored him and scooped up the girl. "He's out for a bit. But he'll be back."

"Buffy, is that such a good—," Xander began but Buffy cut him off with a quick jerk of her head.

"Yeah, Daddy'll be back. Maybe with some more 'blued'. How does that sound?"

"Nommy blued." Joy giggled.

"So, if you're half as fast as Auntie Dawnie says, wanna help clean up for Grandma?" Buffy tickled her tummy. She looked at Xander and Anya.

"Would you call Tara and ask her to send Dawn back over? We're going to need some help with this place."

"Definitely."

Xander nudged his fiancé semi-discreetly. "What?"

He glared. "Oh yes," she said. "I would love to help you . . . clean this . . . hell-hole of a house . . ."

"Thanks for your help." Buffy said. Joy glared. "Come on, let's get you out of that nice dress."

"Werk pants." Joy muttered. "Pants of da werk."

* * *

"Okay, this is definitely pizza." Buffy said. Dressed in sweats and running shoes, Buffy knew she had mom hair. She was scrubbing a splotch on the wall. "My only question is how it got on the ceiling."

"I had some wild parties while you were out." Dawn said. She was sweeping the front hallway. "The Romans ain't got nothing on me."

Buffy paused and looked at her sister. The brunette frowned. "I'm totally kidding, Buffy. I have no idea how a pizza stain got on the ceiling."

"Buffy, I'm bored," Anya called from the kitchen. "I've been cleaning glasses for an hour and I'm still not done! I've seen cleaner pus demon nests!"

"Fine. Would you like to use your Slayer abilities to scale walls and reach behind couches?"

Anya grumbled something. Buffy dropped down from the crux in the ceiling and shook her head. She stared around. Despite what Anya seemed to think, the house looked nice. In fact, it was almost presentable.

"Make way! Super clean-er on her cleaning!" Joy zipped into the room, sponges attached to her feet. Determined to help in a definite way, Joy would not sit quietly while the others worked. So, in an inventive move from Dawn, they strapped the little girl down with sponges. Literally. Her feet, her elbows, hands, and head were attached with porous squares. She practically bounced up and down as she moved throughout the house. "House gonna sparkle. Be pretty."

"Just like you, buggy." Buffy scooped her up and kissed a smooth forehead.

"Buggy?" Anya asked as she entered in from the kitchen. She was sweaty. Maybe she really was working hard. "I thought her name was Joy."

"It is." Buffy bounced the little girl on her hip. "It's just a nickname, Anya."

"Well you'd better have it all figured out before your mom gets here tonight, Buffy." Anya said, shaking her head. "It'll be enough shock to know that her daughter has been boinking the demon seed she's suppose to kill, without having a granddaughter with no name."

"Anya, I haven't slept with Spike!"

"Yeah, not yet, anyway."

"Daddy!" Joy giggled happily, unaware of the trouble his name brought about.

"Does that give anyone else the creeps?" Dawn asked. She propped her broom up against the wall. "I thought he was only called 'daddy' when he was going to funky town."

"Oh, Dawn, ew." Buffy scowled, rolling her eyes at her sister. But she wasn't technically wrong.

"I still don't see why we have to clean this friggin' monster of a house." Anya sighed.

"Because, my mom is coming home and everything has to be perfect so she doesn't blow a fuse when—,"

"When she sees your little demon progeny, yes, yes I know that part." Anya said nodding. " But why do WE have to? I mean if Willow can whip up a dead Buffy, she can certainly whip a house back into order."

"Because what she got into—it was wrong." Buffy put down Joy. "I think you missed a spot in the dining room."

Joy frowned, offended. "No didn't."

"I'd better go check if I were you." Buffy gave her a little push before the toddler ran off to make sure nothing was wrong. The Slayer turned and looked at Anya. "We can't tempt her with that again."

"Yeah, yeah, obsession wrong. But all I'm saying is that our lives would be so much easier if Willow could just stick a toe in, without drowning in the magics, if you know what I mean."

* * *

Willow slumped to the ground. She hadn't felt this good in months. She physically couldn't move. Pleasure and ecstasy tickled her every pore. Why didn't she come here more often?

"So, Strawberry, found what you were looking for?"

She rolled onto her back. Oh, right, Buffy. Her kid. With Spike. Willow giggled.

"I made a hell of a lot of house calls." She muttered to no one in particular. "The dimensional phones should be ringing off their hooks. Hopefully the right one will pick up."

She crawled forward. When she moved, her skin hummed. She rolled onto her stomach then rolled back again.

_Puppy, puppy likes to play in wheat fields_.

Willow giggled again. She was literally breathing magic. "Called all the dead planets. Found one that looked dead enough. Called to them. Screamed to them."

Willow moaned. She could feel her heart beat outside of her body.

"So I guess you found what you came for."

She could barely hear the voice whispering. But she nodded.

Then fell.

She opened her eyes to Rack's place. His eyes were black but the horrible grin was still there.

"What—," Willow began. The lights were too bright, the smells too strong. Her power was gone. "Why—I can't—,"

Rack chuckled, breathing deeply from his nostrils. A black cloud followed the air into his nose. He licked his lips.

"Strawberry, Strawberry," he crooned. He knelt down and put a hand near her face. Willow breathed, swallowing the magic whole like pills. "Are you really going to leave, now that you've got your information?"

The second skin answered. "No. Never." She grabbed Rack's hand, pressing it directly to her skin. He laughed as her back arched and a gentle moan escaped her lips.

"As they say, little witch," Rack muttered. He stepped back to watch Willow writhe on the floor. His eyes glittered with electricity. "Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder."

* * *

"I can't believe this would ever happen." Dawn slumped down onto the couch and propped her head against her sister's shoulder. "The house is actually clean."

"Stranger things have happened."

"Buffy! You've totally jinxed it!"

"What are you, twelve?"

"No, but I have spent sixteen years living on a Hellmouth. That's long enough to know not to tempt the Fates with your hopefulness."

"True, but shut up, Wise Dawn."

"She's right, Buffy." Anya walked in, carrying Joy on her hip. The toddler had a bottle of fresh blood in her hands, which she was sucking on happily. "If I was a demon and had heard that, I would have come and smashed your house just to spite you."

Buffy eyed her. "Good to know."

"So when's Xander coming back to finish the crib?" Dawn asked. "She looks like she's ready to drop."

Joy had been quieter and less mobile since Auntie Anya had made lunch, the drinkable portion of which was slowly putting her to sleep.

"As soon as he gets off work," Anya mumbled. "I don't see why he has to work the weekends. Even I, a gentle, hardworking proprietor knows when to close her doors."

"And Tara?" Buffy said to Dawn. "It's not that hard to find baby food."

"Yeah, but you know Tara. When I left her, she was dithering about whether to get frozen peas or peaches."

"Peas. Blegh." Joy grumbled. Buffy looked at a clock. It was nearing three. "C'mon ladies, lets go get dressed. The last thing we need is for you smelling bad."

She stood and reached for Joy. But the moment Buffy took her, she began to cry.

"Aww, buggy, what is it?"

She started to squirm. Buffy grabbed her tighter. "I know I stink, but not that bad—,"

With a firm kick, Joy wiggled out of Buffy's arms and scampered behind the couch. She stared fearfully at the door.

"What is it—,"

Two little eyes were visible from behind the couch. "Bad man."

The door exploded open.

Dawn screamed. Buffy was blown into a table. And then she heard a roar. She opened her eyes to see a giant satyr-like demon demolishing the front hall. His horns scratched through the ceiling. He barreled through the living room doors, smashing and roaring. His hooves were the size of dinner plates.

"SLAYER!" it howled. "I will take your BLOOD!" Buffy rushed to her feet, rolling before leaping to punch it in the face. It felt like punching stone but amazingly the beast faltered.

"Are you from library?" Buffy shook her head. "Look, I'm sorry I really meant to pay those overdue fees, but it kept slipping my mind. But a blood vengeance seems a bit like overkill, don't you think?"

"SLAYER!"

"Fine, I guess we're gonna have to do this the lethal way." She grabbed a broken piece of glass and flung it as hard as she could at the nine-feet tall giant. It stabbed it directly in the chest. The beast bellowed in agony. Grabbing both wood and glass, Buffy leapt, dodging an out-stretched hand, the width of a tree trunk, and stabbed it in the leg. Then, bounding off the wall, the Slayer spun, and plunged the second piece of glass through it's neck, piercing it all the way through. As she landed lightly on the couch, the beast fell forward, clutching at its throat before closing its eyes and slumping onto the ground. The noise it made shook the house.

Dawn and Anya poked their heads out from their hiding places. "Is it—,"

"Yep, deader than a bag of doornails. Which, if it didn't go down after that, I was about to use."

"Oh my god!" Anya sighed. "The mess! All that work for nothing! There's no dustpan in the world big enough to scoop all of that up!"

"Well, you're fiancé is a carpenter . . ." Dawn muttered, dusting herself off.

"Yes, but . . ."

Joy appeared from under the couch. "See, buggy?" Buffy said happily. "Nothing to worry about. Mommy got it. Mommy kicked its ass."

But the little girl still stared at the body. Then slowly shook her head. "Bad man not dead yet."

"What!"

"Buffy . . ." Dawn said uncertainly. The Slayer whipped around. The body was glowing and slowly, the piece of glass lifted itself out of the shoulder and the wound closed. The piece of wood retracted from the leg and the wound stopped bleeding.

"Dawn, Anya, get Joy out of here and run." Buffy ordered, but it was too late. The wound at the throat was already healed. The house shook again as the monster climbed onto one foot, two feet, then let out a vicious roar. "GET HER OUT OF HERE NOW!"

Buffy ran and jumped, fists wheeled back. But the monster was ready this time. With one turn, a boulder-like fist slammed its way into Buffy's chest and sent her flying into the fireplace. When she landed, she definitely heard something crack.

Dawn shrieked again and Anya was yelling something. Buffy heard Joy simper.

"There you are, my sweet." The monster rumbled. Joy screamed. "The Slayer's child is mine."

"Not even close." Buffy stood and hurled a fire poker directly into the beast. But instead of going down, he pulled it out and snapped it in half, laughing. Joy ran for Buffy.

"Sweetie, you have to go with Auntie Anya and Dawn. Okay?" Buffy spoke fast and quick, moving backwards as the thing lumbered onward. Dawn and Anya were on their feet, shuffling towards the back door. Joy grasped Buffy's neck tighter. The monster roared and took out a chunk of the nearest wall. "Buggy, you have to let go!"

"Mama!" The little girl squealed in Buffy's ear. Her heart clenched. "I want Daddy!"

"Right now— me too—," Buffy dropped, holding the girl tightly under her as the monster launched a giant piece of plaster at the Slayer. "But sweetie, you need to get out of here! It's not safe!"

Dawn and Anya were at the door. All Joy had to do was run. "Joy, you need to get out of here!"

"No," the demon grumbled. "There shall be no escaping."

He held out a white glass ball Buffy hadn't seen before. But it was bad news. Her feet felt heavy, then her legs, because, right before her eyes, they were turning to stone. Joy screamed. Unable to crawl any more, Buffy peeled away the tiny hands.

"Dawn, take her dammit!"

"Come on, Joy, come to Auntie!"

The demon laughed as Buffy watched helplessly as the ground cracked beneath her daughter's tiny feet.

"Hey, ass clown!"

Tara appeared through the broken window. She held a bright ball of flame. The demon stopped and looked. Tara launched the ball and the demon snarled in pain as audible sounds of burning flesh were heard throughout the house. The demon stumbled. Tara hurled another fireball.

Buffy inched backward, pulled her useless legs along with just her arms. She turned to see Dawn, Anya and Joy cowering in a corner. "Go!" She barked.

"No! The child must not live!" The demon roared despite the onslaught of fireballs. It stood from it's kneeled position, hands glowing. Suddenly, black fire appeared from nowhere and fought back against Tara's attacks. It came in a giant wave and as the beast stood, Buffy realized it was breathing out the fire. It roared until Tara was covered in black flame. When it stopped, Tara was unconscious.

"TARA!" Buffy cried.

"Enough of this! I came to collect my reward!" The demon moved forward. It beat against the wall, plaster and dust flying everywhere. It snarled. With a flick of its massive wrists, it flung away Dawn and Anya. Buffy struggled and struggled but to no avail. Joy screamed and screamed.

The demon picked her up by the shirt. "Now, now little one. No need to fight. This will only take a moment."

"I think my girlfriend said something to you."

Willow appeared from nowhere, hovering about a foot above the floor. Her eyes were pitch black. Her hands crackled with red lightening. "In case you weren't listening, it sounded a little something like this."

Willow extended a claw-like hand towards the beast. A huge, thick crack of lightening erupted from the witch's open hand. An unearthly howl escape the creature as Willow slowly tortured it.

"You should never have come here."

The demon dropped Joy, who immediately ran to Buffy. She took her daughter tightly in her arms, shielding her as best she could.

"Wait!" The demon screeched. "I have information! About my universe! I know how to send her back!"

"Willow, stop!" Buffy screamed. "We need him! Don't kill him!"

"He's a demon," Willow smiled in a horrible way. "They all deserve to die."

"Fine, you can kill him, but not right now! Willow! Please! We have to help Joy!"

At that the lightning bolt faltered and lost power. Willow felt the second skin retract. Her eyes fluttered back to their original soft green. She floated down then fell onto all fours.

Willow looked up into the terrified eyes of both the Slayer and her daughter. To her left she saw Tara, face streaked with ash. Off in the corner, Anya and Dawn hid. The demon wasn't moving.

"It's not dead. Just drained." With one more flick, Willow reached out and a white string appeared around the ankles of the demon. It wrapped and wove until it hovered a few inches above the floor, tied up in what looked to be a silk cocoon. "Prepped and ready for interrogation when the time should come—,"

"Willow, have you been using again?" Buffy's tone was hard. Willow swallowed something hard in her throat. Her eyes glanced to Tara, who was still unconscious.

"Yeah, but if I hadn't been, you guys would all be really dead—,"

'That's never stopped you before." Buffy was furious. Her eyes were steel hard. "Whatever. Get me unfrozen and wake up Tara."

Willow knelt down next to the Slayer. Joy stood behind her mother, fear written clearly in her little face.

"But, Buffy, I did it to save you guys. To help her."

"Keep telling yourself that, Will." Buffy continued to glare. "And maybe, one day it'll be true."

Buffy could feel her feet again. She stood, Joy running behind her legs, staring fearfully at Willow. "Aww, c'mon, Joy, it's me Auntie Will. You know there's nothing—,"

Joy whimpered. Buffy's mouth was a hard line.

"You two doing okay?" she asked her sister and the ex-demon.

"Okay as in nothing's broken, then yeah." Dawn said, but both she and Anya were staring at Willow.

_They just don't understand. _

Tears welling up, Willow went to Tara. She touched her forehead. Soft, beautiful brown eyes stared up at her.

"W-w-willow? W-w-what happened?"

"She's been using again, Tara." Buffy said. Joy was wrapped tightly in her arms. "That's what happened. She's been lying to us."

"And you aren't just a little bit grateful for that, are you Buffy?" Willow whirled around. "But I guess you wouldn't be. Because you know, you're alive and all. And that really sucks, doesn't it?"

"You put all of us in danger!" Buffy yelled. "What if you didn't stop? You could have killed me, my daughter—,"

"Daughter?" asked an unfamiliar voice. Buffy paled and turned around. Joyce Summers stood where the front door used to be. Joy squirmed and in her shock, Buffy accidently let go.

"No, Joy, wait—,"

But the little girl raced forward, over rubble and stones. She clutched the older woman's leg.

"Gand'ma." She said.

* * *

"Buffy," Joyce Summers muttered breathlessly. "What is going on?"

The Slayer stared around. The house was in shambles. There was a giant demon body on the floor. And dinner wasn't even close to being made.

"Mom, look, I can explain it all."

"You'd better do it fast." Joyce said, stepping around a large piece of ceiling. Joy was watching her with worried eyes. "Because this— this— I can't believe this is happening."

"Well, Mom, first of all that's a demon—,"

"A Dracokin, by the looks of it." Anya said helpfully. "They're soldiers, usually, but more magically inclined then your average grunt. Big, strong, obviously. This one sounded like a bounty hunter."

"Willow?" Tara was sitting up, rubbing her head. "It's all hot. I don't wanna be at the beach."

"Shh, baby, it's okay." Willow said, patting her cheek. "I teleport you home so you can—,"

"No, Willow," Buffy said fiercely. "Don't touch her. You need help."

"No, I don't. I just need a way to channel this—this—power. And I did. And saved your sorry ass in the process."

"You don't see the wrong in this?" Buffy cried. "You don't see how deep you're in it?"

"It doesn't matter, Buffy!" Willow said. "I can save you all!"

"That's my job, Willow—,"

"Buffy." Joyce snapped. "I'm sure this is all very important, but— Willow, I'm sorry you have a problem— with whatever. But look, why is my house destroyed? Why is there a Dragon—Draconian—,"

"Dracokin." Anya interjected.

Joyce glared at her. She eyed the little girl next. "—yes, that. And why— why, God, Buffy, did you just refer to that baby as your daughter? Please, please tell me that it was you just blabbering, in your weird language, and she isn't actually yours."

Buffy swallowed. Joy, her mouth pulled down unhappily as if she knew she had done the wrong thing, toddled back to her mother and outstretched her hands. "Up."

Buffy paused before bending down and hoisting the girl onto her hip. Everyone watched them with apprehension. Joy put her head onto Buffy's shoulder, watching Joyce with sad eyes.

The older woman rubbed her face and a single tear escape the closed eyelids. "Don't answer that. I was gone for weeks, just weeks and this is what you get in to . . ."

"Mom, don't be so hard." Dawn stepped forward. "It's not really hers, anyway . . ."

"No, it's not, Dawnie," Joyce laughed hysterically. "It's also one part— someone else's— oh, God, Buffy, who's the father?"

"Mom, you have to understand— she's not from this universe— she was sent here on accident. I'm not— never was—,"

"Buffy, who is the father?"

Buffy swallowed. This was worse than admitting all those nights with him. This was worse than anything she could have possibly imagined. "Spike. He's the father."

Joyce blinked. "Spike? The vampire? Wait, the vampire with blonde hair— and the leather—and the black— Buffy, oh my God!"

"But she's not mine!" Buffy cried. "I mean, in some other universe, I guess she is— but look, Mom, we're working on a solution to get her back!"

"You better, because, Buffy, I swear—," Joyce shook her head. "You can't take care of a baby."

"I know!" Buffy pleaded with her mother for forgiveness. _Stop looking at me like that_. "I don't even want her!"

Dawn gasped. "Buffy, no—,"

"What?" Buffy snapped at her sister. But her blue eyes were watching her niece.

The little girl sat on the floor, a hand in her mouth again. Her bottom lip was trembling. "Mommy?" Little tears rolled down the soft cheeks.

Something inside Buffy broke. She looked slowly back at her mother. "Mom, you don't understand what's been going on. You don't understand us, or my life. This kid— she's been—I can't explain it, but I love her. And if you felt anything more than indifference for this family, you'd see that."

Joyce stared with an open mouth.

"Dawn," Buffy spoke slowly. "Go upstairs and get an overnight bag for you and Joy. Then get some blood from the fridge. Anya, call Xander and tell him what happened. Willow, stay here and start checking this guy for any links back to his universe. Once she's up and running, have Tara help too. Mom, wait for Dawn and I outside."

"Where are we going, Buffy?"

Buffy bent down and picked up Joy. She cleaned off her tear-stained face. "We're going to see Spike."

* * *

Spike had never been one for patience. He had never been real good at sitting still and being a good boy. Way back when, he took what he wanted, when he wanted, there was no one to say no, no one to keep him reigned in— like a bloody horse and pony show. It wasn't until he came back to Sunny-freaking-dale, did he understand patience— waiting for the perfect moment to strike, to hit her where it hurt. Mind you, he was never good at it and maybe if he was, she would have been blood in his teeth a long time ago, and he wouldn't be standing here, pacing outside his crypt, looking like a complete ponce— but such as it was—

Spike glared up hatefully into the setting sun. _C'mon, c'mon. I need to go— I need to check on them—_

In a rush of frustration, he took a risk and stuck a hand outside of the shadow of the crypt. There was a pop and sizzle and Spike yelped in pain, retracting the hand immediately. Hissing, Spike flexed his jaw. He narrowed his eyes at the still dying sun. _C'mon, c'mon, c'mon . . ._

Over the ridge, Spike heard the snap of a heavy boot breaking a twig. He heard another set of feet, bigger, clunkier. There was a third party, but he didn't hear this one. He smelled her. _Slayer_.

And sure as the setting sun, Buffy walked towards his crypt, purposefully and pissed, leading the group consisting of Little Bit . . . and Mrs. Summers? Little Bit was carrying Joy, leaving Buffy's hands free for fighting off big baddies— or for staking.

"Come to show Mummy the softer side of Sunnydale? And you started with my little shack? Aww, Buffy, you should've called. Maybe then I could—,"

WHAP

Buffy punched him directly in the face. Oh, so she was pissed at him; what else was new?

"Spike, they're staying there." Buffy commanded. Spike nodded and swallowed his own blood; she really hit him hard.

He glanced behind her at the rest of the family. Dawn wasn't looking anywhere specifically. Maybe that was because she was an inch from tears. Joy watched him with sad eyes, sucking unhappily at a blood-filled bottle. And Joyce— Joyce had never looked so angry— even after he tried to kill her daughter, multiple times.

"Not that I mind opening my doors to the Merry Band of Misfits, The Second Generation," Spike said, sniffing down more blood. "Could I ask why the Summers' house isn't on lockdown?"

Buffy glanced away. "Because we were attacked and it's not safe there any more." She shoved past him and into the crypt.

Spike felt hollow. Like all the air had been sucked out of his very being and turned to ash. He leaned against the door frame, trying to get the world to stop spinning, to make something real, to keep him from puking everywhere—

_They were attacked— hurt— demon— gonna kill—_

Dawn and Joyce took Spike's movement away from the doorway as an offer to enter. They quickly obliged.

Buffy glared around the stone crypt. She hadn't entered this place once when she wasn't furious, either at Spike, at her life, at the world— She never really had taken a moment to look at what he did. It wasn't Martha Steward gold, but as he put it— it was posh. She swallowed as she heard the door slam behind her.

"So, Mom, Dawn, I want you to stay here. Don't touch anything—,"

"What do you mean attacked?" Spike swooped down to her. Dawn and Joyce sidled off into the corner.

"Big demon." Buffy said, still not looking him in the eyes. "A goat-guy of sorts, goatie legs, big, arms, horns—,"

"Stop." Spike breathed. "Tell me. What's going on?"

Buffy glanced at Dawn. Her eyes were brimming with tears but she held them in. Joy was clutching Roo to her chest, tiny face tight with worry. Joyce had her arms crossed. Her face was a mixture of fury, pity and heart-breaking sadness.

"Spike, it's complicated—,"

"Complicated? Oh, yeah?" Spike snapped, throwing his hands up. "It's real complicated, Buffy, I got that. What I don't get is why you keep shutting me out. I want to help. I'm _begging_ you to help, out of the _bloody_ evilness of my heart."

He stole a glance over his shoulder at the rest of the Summers household and moved forward. Buffy swallowed; he smelled so good. Even furious, he was gorgeous— _focus Buffy!_

"You were attacked and you didn't tell me."

"I was a bit preoccupied at the time, but I'm telling you now, aren't I?" Buffy moved to go say good bye to her family, when a strong arm jumped out in front of her, blocking the way forward.

"Not good enough, Buffy." Spike growled. He was truly livid. "I sat around here all day like a house-trained pet— tail between my damn knees— waiting for the moment the sun set so I could come see her. And now you come and tell me there's a demon out for her blood but I can't protect her. I can't even protect my own—,"

He paused, the word on his tongue but unable to say it.

"—I can't even protect my own _daughter_. That's bloody bollucks, that's what it is."

Buffy stared at him, pleading to make things easier. Spike saw this, past his anger and disappointment, and he deflated.

"Fine," he said. "They can stay here, but I'm coming with you."

"No, Spike, you're our strongest fighter. They need someone to be here."

"Get Clem to do it!" Spike sighed exasperated. "Have the witches come down here and spell-ofy the hell out of the place— I don't care! All I know is that I'm coming with you to tear apart the bastard that put our child in danger."

Joyce gasped. Spike froze, just realizing the line he had crossed. He didn't even think— didn't consider— what did Joyce know?

He glanced at Buffy. She was near tears.

"Okay, Spike," she said with a thick voice. "Alright. Find Clem. Get him here. Meet me back at the Magic Box."

She turned.

Joyce stepped out of nowhere, pushed her way into the foreground, grabbed Spike by the shoulder and slapped him across the face.

"Mom!" The girls cried.

"No, ladies—," Spike muttered. "It's alright—,"

"You sick bastard," Joyce hissed. Her eyes were slit and tears leaked down her cheek. "You've ruined so much. Why won't you just go away?"

"Mom," Buffy began. "It's not his fault— this isn't even his kid—,"

"I can't believe this, Buffy." Joyce said, her head shaking.

"Please, stop, Mom—,"

"I can't believe you were so irresponsible. And with a vampire? I thought I raised you better."

"You did, Joyce." Spike said to the ground. "She's had nothing to do with me since I first hit Sunnydale. The little tike came from another universe, another place and time, where things are incredibly different."

"But you still touched her." She replied, her voice deadly and low. "You still—did things to my baby girl."

Spike swallowed.

"We're going to the Magic Box. Hopefully to find a way to send her back to her own home." Buffy said, walking up the stairs. Spike began to follow her.

Joy leaped down from Dawn's arms. She raced to Spike, grabbing at his leg. "Daddy. Want to be wif Daddy."

"No, sweet, you've got to be here. You're safe here."

"Take her." Joyce said. Her lip trembled. "I don't know what to do— to think around her— so take her. She's your responsibility and you should treat her like that."

Buffy nodded. Spike extended two fingers to the toddler. She grabbed it by two of hers and he pulled her onto his hip. Buffy looked back at her mother, at Dawn, who was quietly sobbing, then left.

* * *

They were about halfway there, walking in darkness and silence, when Buffy's knees buckled. She fell under a street lamp and the tears hit her. She began to sob. Spike stayed in the dark, unsure of what to do, clutching Joy tightly, his heart constricting. Joy pushed out of his arms and walked over to her. She crawled up until her lap, nuzzling her mother's neck.

Buffy felt the soft hair under her jaw and immediately her arms enclosed around the little girl. She sobbed and cried until the hair under her was wet.

A minute later a cool hand touched her head and she leaned back into his thigh.

_I can't do this. I can't do this anymore._

* * *

_*A/N : hope this keeps you all busy for a while! So close to the end! And to be fair on the updating policy— I was out of the country for three weeks and then school started— so there. _

_Reviews are always appreciated and thanks for all for holding onto this for so long. I promise it's not abandoned and soon we shall know the happy ending of Joy, Daughter of the Slayer of The Vampyrs. And more sappy Spuffy is soon to come!_


	9. Chapter 9: Are We There Yet?

**Chapter 9: Are We There Yet?**

* * *

Willow stood in the bathroom at the Magic Box, cleaning the dried blood from her nose. She wiped her sweaty face then stuck her hands under the running tap of ice-cold water. She was drained, sick, and she couldn't tell anyone. There was a tea that would unify her fraying energy, giving her some stability, and keep the room from spinning. But she couldn't leave the bathroom.

After Buffy, Dawn, Joyce and the little girl left for Spike's, Willow touched the demon and teleported it back to the Magic Box. There she began performing spells for protection and confinement over the unconscious body. An hour later, Anya arrived with Tara slung over her shoulder and Xander picking up the extra weight. They carried her back to training room, Anya returning soon later to prepare a potion to cure her burns.

Willow cleaned up the blood from her nose, then went for the blood from her mouth. It shouldn't be this hard. She raised someone from the dead, for heaven's sake. These were a couple of easy spells; spells for pain, for travel, for entrapment. So why could she barely stand?

If Giles were here, he'd make her that tea. He'd help her.

_No, he'd probably just call you pathetic again—_

Willow scowled into the mirror. They didn't understand. They had no chance of helping Joy without her. They judged her, stared at her like a freak, but let them— she was the one with the true power and everyone knew it. They were scared of her.

She grabbed one of the light bulbs. She absorbed the energy like smoke from a bong. It was false energy— she'd run out of it soon— but it would do for now. Willow breathed. She licked her lips. "Mhmm. Coconut."

* * *

They continued to walk, Joy back in Spike's arms. She hid under his duster, a dark little head poking out at his shoulder. She sucked her thumb, eyes alight and watching. Spike stroked her hair absentmindedly as it spilled out over the lapel of his coat. Both eyes were clear and bright even in the darkness. Neither had said a word since leaving the streetlight.

Spike walked differently. He had his swagger— that never went away— but it was softer, more alert. He was hiding, protecting, instead of welcoming any fight.

"I'm sorry." He said into the night. "For any part . . . I played with your mum. You don't need this."

Buffy nodded. "Cherish what I'm about to say because I don't think I'll ever say it again . . . but it's not your fault."

Joy perked her head up from Spike's shoulder, listening.

"But she blames you just the same, which isn't right. Clem will protect them, though it would be nice for your mum to see the trouble you go through to defend this bloody world every day. Besides, I don't think they— the demons— are really after Dear Ol' Mum and Little Bit."

"As usual, you're probably right." Buffy slowed her gait so she fell in line with Spike and Joy.

Joy watched her mother with soft eyes, hiding behind her dad's chest. Spike watched Buffy.

"However, in all of this, I'm not the one who needs reassuring. I think you owe somebody an apology."

"Mama," Joy said into the black t-shirt.

Buffy reached out and put a curl behind a tiny ear. "I am sorry, buggy. For what I said. I didn't mean it. Your grandmother, she's just a . . ."

"A bitch?" Spike muttered.

"Hey! You can't talk about my mother that way!" Buffy pushed Spike on his shoulder. "And you especially can't say that around her!"

Joy giggled and suddenly, the world for Buffy was a little less dark. "Bluedy hurl."

"See what I mean?" Buffy said, shaking her head. "I know _I_ didn't teach her that one."

Spike was watching Joy. A small grin cracked his lips, but there was a slight frown to his forehead, as if he didn't understand. "Me neither . . ."

Suddenly, Spike stopped. Joy whimpered. He turned and threw her into Buffy's arms, pushing them apart, just as a skinny, sharp tail whipped into the air between them.

"Give her to me!" a nasty voice hissed.

Buffy rolled, Joy pressed into her chest. Spike was on his feet, running towards a green figure. He leaped and collided with it, kicking and punching until they rounded out under a streetlight. Spike was tussling with something far too boney and green to be human. A tail at least ten feet in length snapped in the air above them, striking down at a blonde head whenever it could find an opening. In a series of rolls and screams, Spike landed on its back, grabbed its head and snapped its neck. It collapsed and grinning, Spike stood and wiped blood from his cheek.

From her spot behind a park bench, Buffy breathed a sigh of relief.

Then, out of the woods, something howled.

"Bad men, mommy, bad men!" Joy whispered.

"Spike!" Buffy yelled and ran back out into the road. "Come on!"

"Right behind you, love!"

* * *

They bounded into the Magic Box, slamming the door behind them.

"Go, Spike, get the windows!" Buffy ordered. He turned and slammed the metal grating down, blocking the glass from access. Buffy locked the door behind her and grabbed a chair to prop up against the door. The second her hands left the chair, furious fists banged against the wood, scraping and roaring against metal.

"What is that?" Xander asked, his voice tight with worry. Anya, Xander and Willow stood up from their spot on the table. Willow was gaunt and pale.

"Demons. Hell's Army by the looks of the numbers." Spike said, staying out of the glass. Buffy held Joy to her, whispering words of comfort in her ear.

"What do they want?" Anya asked.

"A'n sorey, Auntie A'ne." Joy muttered from Buffy's arms.

"I've had about enough of these demons who think they're all high and mighty because of a little bounty hunter work." Willow said. Her hands were glittering again. "Let's give them a taste of real bad ass."

"Willow, I—," Buffy started.

"Fine, let them in here and kill all of us."

Spike looked at Buffy. She swallowed something sour. "Fine. Whatever. Do it."

Willow's face flashed through something, nearly like a grin, but then she started to shimmer. She began to float and through the window and wall she went, until the howls turned into ones of agony and a purple light filled the glass. They all looked away. Then the scrapping stopped and the screams died off.

Willow reappeared, grinning. Her eyes were black. "See, nothing to worry—,"

A white light hit Willow in her chest and she was thrown back, into a solid block of white casing. She was frozen.

Tara stood, shaking in the doorframe from the training room. "She needs to stop."

"Willow knows how to send her back. She's known for a while now."

Tara sat in a chair, a soothing tea on the table near her, a bandage around her head and hand. Xander held Anya off in a corner. Spike held Joy, the pair across from Tara at the table. Buffy stood, her foot tapping. Above them spun Willow, still trapped in the white case.

"If she's known then why hasn't she said anything?" Anya asked.

"She doesn't know she knows," Tara shrugged, then grimaced: the movement was quite painful. "I think she went to Rack's to get the juice to figure it out but the magics overpowered her, blocking memories and thoughts."

"Thoughts?" Buffy said, frowning. "As in using good judgment thoughts? As in not realizing what the magics are doing to you?"

Tara nodded sadly. "Yes. Willow may once have recognized the horrible effects of over-using, but as she is now, the magics are a part of her and they are the only solution to every problem. She can't stop now."

"What are you saying?" Xander asked, true terror written in his face. "She'll never be our Willow again?"

"Not while she's so entwined with the magics." Tara said quietly. Her eyes shimmered and her free hand wiped them clean.

Willow continued to spin, suspended by air. Her face was a sickly green pale.

"Well, I don't think you've done enough to save her." Anya said confidently.

"_Anya!_" Xander hissed.

"All I'm saying is I think there's other options. Have you tried a transference spell?"

"Channeling her powers won't do any good. We can't keep the rift going forever." Tara said.

"Not if you have closed terminal for the powers to enter."

"That sounds science-y," Buffy said, her arms crossed. "Tara, what is she talking about?"

"She suggesting we strip Willow of her powers." Anya and Tara were locked in gaze. "We take them and put them into another conduit that could handle the magics."

"Permanently?" Buffy gaped. "Could she survive that?"

"They wouldn't be gone forever." Tara shook her head. "It's impossible to really rip a magical being from its power source, but they would be in deep recession. This might give us enough time to rehabilitate her."

"Ok, so we . . . tele-swap her powers, she's back to the old Willow, then what? What do we do about Joy?" Buffy said, glancing over to the toddler. She was clearly trying desperately to stay awake, but the warm duster draped over her shoulders acted like a hypnotic tune. Her eyes fluttered up and down. Spike gently stroked the back of her neck, which didn't help the fight. She yawned. Buffy's heart clenched.

"She's our first priority," she said. "If we can weed down the demon attacks, we can focus completely on Willow. I can't think straight if Joy— the girl— is in danger."

Spike's eyes narrowed at Buffy's word choice.

"That's where this all fails." Tara said, her mouth turning upside down. "I can take her powers but I still couldn't get her memory. She'd be weak enough already. Adding a memory spell to the mix and we really would never get her back. We'd have Willow-brain-mush. Not Willow."

"So to send Joy back, we have to wake her up?" Xander asked. His eyes traveled apprehensively to the ceiling.

Tara nodded.

The lights were lit. The stage set. Everyone was on guard. Tara was already quietly chanting her protection spell with Joy in the other room. They were ready for anything.

Willow sat in the space where the chairs and table used to be and began her spell.

"Forces of nature, wind and rain, open the crack between worlds once again." A soft wind began to blow around the room. As the witch continued, the winds blew harder and harder. "_Donec rerum natura ut abesse et fragmen. Vestibulum ut profero hic orbis."_

The wind blew harder, and sharper. Things began to fly and tumble to the ground. Buffy, though crouching to get out of the way, was glad Joy was hidden.

Suddenly, Willow's head flew back, her eyes blacker than night. She screamed. And slowly, the scream turned into a throaty laugh. "Ah, that tickled. Go ahead, try and hurt me. I've got so much juice, I can—oh, what, little spirits too scared to face the Big Bad Willow? That's what I thought."

Willow's hands opened and blue light, exactly like the kind that opened the sky so many nights before, crackled before ricocheting around the room. It smashed pots and statues and candles.

Above the roar, Buffy was positive she heard Xander mutter, "Anya's definitely not gonna like this."

The lightening crackled and singed the walls. Willow screamed again. "No! You will be controlled! Make a goddamn portal already!"

Her fists shaking violently and still giving off electricity, Willow brought them close together. But all forces were trying to repel them apart. Willow shrieked in agony again. They were inches apart and suddenly caught fire.

"Willow!" Xander yelped.

"OPEN. UP. YOU BIG UGLY—"

There was a clap of giant thunder and Willow was thrown backward as the portal exploded into being. It grew in size and light. Buffy fell to the ground, shielding her eyes. It was hard to discern but there was a definite dark shape coming towards the portal. Running, fast and hard. The dark shape grew bigger as it approached. Blinking through watery eyes, Buffy climbed to her feet, ready to start a good fight. Then the figure leaped through the giant pool of light, rolled into this universe and stopped. The portal crackled. The air hummed with power. Then suddenly it faded away.

As the smoke cleared, Buffy saw the thing stand.

"Be ready for anything guys," Buffy said, already in fighting stance.

"Right there with ya, Buff," Xander had his axe at the ready. "Let's— holy guacamole!"

The smoke finally settled. Buffy's mouth dropped open, because, staring back at her was Buffy. The other Buffy looked around, carrying what looked to be a giant scarlet scythe. Her hair was longer and braided. Her skin was paler and in some bizarre sense, she seemed to be a hundred years older than the Buffy in this universe. She carried the weight of two worlds on her shoulders. Her arm was bandaged and on her wrist sat a strange device, almost like a watch but bigger and thicker. She wore refugee clothes and she looked in dire need of a good meal. She continued to stare at Buffy, until her head turned to Willow.

"You have sex hair."

Willow sat up from a pile of rubble, and put a weary hand to her head. "Oh, I do. I don't mean to— have— hair— sex hair. Buffy? When did you grow out yours?"

"Maybe when she was out universe hopping?" Xander stood and dusted himself off. Then sighed. "Hey, Buffy, the Slayer from other another player." He smiled at her like he smiled at any Buffy he knew: warm, welcoming and glad to see her.

"Hi, Xander." The other Buffy began to tear up. Then she sniffed. "I'm sorry— it's just— from where I come from, I haven't seen you guys in a long time."

"Are we—?"

"Yeah, I think so. Only superhumans survived the first wave. Which left me—"

"And vampires," said Spike from a corner. He was looking sadly at his duster; there was a giant rip up the side of one of the arms. "Don't I get a hell—,"

Quicker than this Buffy thought she could move, the other one leapt and tackled Spike— with kisses. She threw her arms around his neck and crushed his mouth with hers. He stumbled back and she grabbed him by the waist with her legs. She really couldn't get enough of ol' Spike. But when her hands snuck under his shirt and one of his slipped down her pants, Xander put a stop to it.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He waved his arms as if that could pull apart the two. "Way, way too much TMI!"

"That's redundant, sweetie." Anya was watching the two carefully. When Spike groaned, Anya turned her head. "TMI means too much information. You don't have to repeat yourself."

She was watching them as if interested.

Xander's eyes grew wide.

"Okay, seriously, you guys, knock it off." Buffy began. Suddenly, she really hated herself. "Hello? Spike! Hello! Earth to somebody! BUFFY!"

The other Buffy finally pulled away. Spike's mouth followed her as if attached by a magnet. Other-Buffy turned slightly red and climbed down from his waist. Spike still stood slumped against the wall, looking as if he had been drugged. That duster didn't seem so important now.

"Sorry," she said and smoothed down her hair. "I just have seen—him— at all— not since— and I—"

"You love him, don't you?" Buffy asked. "In your universe, you loved each other."

Other-Buffy turned to her counterpart. Tears were falling down her face. "Yes, we did. More than anyone could possibly—"

She paused, her voice catching. She looked away, tears trickling. "We were so alone— and he was so good to me— he said he never stopped loving me— even after—"

She wiped her face. Willow came over and patted her shoulder. She let out on good sob before clearing her throat and really cleaning away the tears. Buffy looked at Spike. He was watching the Other-Buffy with pity and something else Buffy really couldn't name. Then his eyes met hers and she looked away.

"Ok," Other-Buffy sniffed. "So now that you think I'm a blubbering idiot—"

"Oh, we don't think you're an idiot for crying." Xander began. "We think you're an idiot for loving that!"

Buffy, Willow, and Anya spun on him. "XANDER!"

Other-Buffy stared, a little hurt. "I forgot how much you hated him."

"What!" He asked and threw up his hands. "You two are the last people on Earth and it's all sexy and romantic and so you do it! Fine— well not fine, it's still a little gross— but fine! But do you guys really have to invoke the higher powers to make a kid? I mean, I thought it'd be perfect. Free sex and no troublesome babies."

Buffy felt Spike's heated gaze on her, but she chose to ignore it.

"We didn't invoke them," Other-Buffy said, shaking her head. She finally stepped away from Spike, her hands _finally _off his chest. "They invoked us."

From everyone's confused stares, she continued: "We literally were one of the last people on Earth. We hadn't made contact with another living being in months. Like I said, mostly the supernatural survived after Glory broke through the dimensions."

"Wait, Glory?" Willow questioned. "That means—"

"Dawn," Other-Buffy nodded. She sighed, deep regret visible in her sad eyes. "She was one of the first to go. Glory just couldn't be stopped after that. So we hid. Humanity went underground and the demons took over. We tried to stay in packs, so it would be harder for them to pick us off, but somehow they found a way every time. After a year or so, there wasn't much left."

"That still doesn't explain how you become Ms. William the Bloody."

Other-Buffy laughed. "I remember, back in my freshmen year of college, a year before all of this, my Willow did a spell that made Spike and I think we were getting married. And we fought about what would go on the invitations. We still fought about it when the time came."

Buffy and Willow glanced at each other momentarily.

"But yeah— earlier that same year, he confessed to loving me. I thought he was crazy— maybe I should have seen that as a sign of Armageddon." Buffy laughed quietly to herself. "But it wasn't until I was truly alone and he never left me. He was there all the time— and sometimes there would be so much blood around, so many dying that he could have taken anyone in a heartbeat— but he didn't. Because he loved me." Other-Buffy sighed, closing her eyes to the memories. "Then there was that one night. We were being chased— and a demon got me— and he carried me home. And I— was so tired of fighting, of defending a world that was already dead. Of fighting what I really felt, what I really wanted, just because I thought it was wrong— And so we—"

"Had a hickey fest?" Anya asked with dark eyes. She smiled a little.

"In a matter of speaking."

"Don't you mean spanking?"

"Anya!"

Other-Buffy grinned. Spike watched her over her shoulder. He was grinning too. Buffy really wanted to punch herself in the face.

"But that still doesn't explain some things," Willow said, frowning.

"Like dead things having kids," Xander said.

"We didn't really understand what was happening at first." Other-Buffy said, looking around the room. "Spike thought I cheated on him— which was definitely not the case—"

"Because she was born with fangs?" Buffy asked. She could tell the other one was itching to get her hands back on Spike.

"Well yah."

"A-a-a-and?"

"And we found out it was the Powers That Be." Other-Buffy shrugged. "As a Slayer and a vampire we could create one of the most powerful beings inexistence. The only reason a creature like that wasn't created before was—"

"Because it's physically impossible." Xander finished. Spike looked at him as though he had been personally offended.

"That's what we thought until—"

"Buffy got all big and round." Willow said gleefully. Off of everyone's looks, she frowned. "What? I think about our lives outside of Sunnydale and the demons sometimes. Can you blame a girl for thinking about our lives as normal people? I plan weddings too."

She grinned happily.

Other-Buffy smiled. "Yeah. Then they came to us and told us their plans for our daughter. That she could do what her mother couldn't."

"And that was?"

"Save the world." Other-Buffy smiled. "Our little girl, a real hero. One part vampire, one part Slayer. A whole lot of kick ass."

Buffy stole a glance at Spike. He was beaming.

"And she's here, isn't she?" Other-Buffy asked. "That's why you brought me here."

"Well it wasn't easy—" Willow began but Buffy cut her off.

"Yeah, she is." She smiled. "Would you like to see her?"

Other-Buffy nodded.

"Hey, Dawn, it's safe now!"

There was silence. Then Dawn poked her head around the door. "Are you sure? There was a lot of yelling. And I heard—"

Dawn's mouth dropped open at the sight of her alter-universe sister. "Buffy?"

"Hey, Dawnie."

Then, somewhere, in the other room, a little voice cried, "Mama!"

Joy came scampering in through the door, her face in a giant smile. Other-Buffy immediately lit up. She knelt down just as her daughter tackled her.

"Mommy, mommy, mommy!" She buried her head into her mother's neck. Other-Buffy was crying again as she held the child in her arms.

"Mommy missed you so much." The tears came harder.

Finally, the little girl looked up and giggled. She was staring at Spike. She put one hand in her mouth and reached the other one towards the vampire. "Mhmm, Daddy."

He smiled and gently rubbed her fat cheek with his thumb. "Hey, little tike. Dad's right here."

And Buffy stared. There it was; that family picture Buffy could only glimpse at in the dark recesses of night. In the other universe— in _this_ universe— they made a perfect family. A dad and mom that loved each other more than it was humanly possible to comprehend, and the product of that love— a bundle of energy that loved both her parents with all she had, and in turn, they loved her even more they loved themselves.

Buffy let her gaze drop and a single tear hit the ground.

From beyond her gaze, Buffy heard Willow sniff.

"What?" Xander said. "You're not really getting emotional about this, Willow!"

"Oh, shut up, Xander." Anya said, her voice thick and watery. "It's sweet."

"Sweet? It's not sweet! It's not cute! It's—"

"Family." Buffy said. "One big happy family."

* * *

_*A/N Yeah, so I understand if you all hate me. I just wanted to let you know that I understand and hate me too. I haven't forgotten about this fic at all, but I only have time to write what I feel like writing at the time. Which means other fics. I am so sorry for all the pain and trouble, but this will end and it will end soon. Love all the reviews and the followers and the favorites. You guys rock hard. Way harder than I do :) Night and see you soon!_


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